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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the funk 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Brand Nubian,
Joy Division,
Rosa Yemen,
Audionom,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
Idris Muhammad,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Max Romeo,
Index,
Jawbox,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
Derrick Morgan,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
Negative Approach,
Gang Gang Dance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
Fad Gadget,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Camouflage,
Ludus,
Eric Dolphy,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dirtbombs,
Marmalade,
Godley & Creme,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
The Toasters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Finger,
Fat Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Hashim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Scion,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The New Christs,
Steve Hackett,
Procol Harum,
Oneida,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.