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 Cape Verde and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Parry Music to the rap 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Joey Negro,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Lynne,
Erykah Badu,
Marmalade,
Scratch Acid,
Minor Threat,
Essential Logic,
Moebius,
The Electric Prunes,
Malaria!,
Grauzone,
Radio Birdman,
Franke,
Q and Not U,
Bang On A Can,
The Angels of Light,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ten City,
Shoche,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Todd Terry,
Neu!,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
Negative Approach,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camouflage,
Tres Demented,
The Standells,
DNA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
B.T. Express,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar,
Barrington Levy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kas Product,
The Fugs,
X-102,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New Age Steppers,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
Youth Brigade,
Whodini,
LL Cool J,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.