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 Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The United States of America to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Organ,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pagans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minny Pops,
The Misunderstood,
Slick Rick,
One Last Wish,
The Selecter,
Deepchord,
Letta Mbulu,
Tommy Roe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Groovy Waters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mandrill,
Suburban Knight,
Cybotron,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Oblivians,
Nik Kershaw,
Adolescents,
Young Marble Giants,
Index,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lightning Bolt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Machine,
Flipper,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.