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 Suriname and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
DJ Style,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Symarip,
Max Romeo,
Black Sheep,
The Angels of Light,
Black Pus,
Ituana,
Ten City,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
D'Angelo,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
June Days,
Royal Trux,
Funkadelic,
The Victims,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Icehouse,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
KRS-One,
The Misunderstood,
Sugar Minott,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
LL Cool J,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Carl Craig,
Japan,
The Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.