Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Antigua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Hoover to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
Alton Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Johnny Clarke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Derrick May,
Joe Smooth,
Heaven 17,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
Scion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marvin Gaye,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Infiniti,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
Ossler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nico,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Music Machine,
Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Altered Images,
Eric Dolphy,
the Germs,
Niagra,
Tommy Roe,
One Last Wish,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
Boz Scaggs,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Zapp,
Buzzcocks,
Funky Four + One,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Harry Pussy,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.