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 United Kingdom and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Mo-Dettes,
The Trojans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fire Engines,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mark Hollis,
Warren Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Minnie Riperton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Order,
Cal Tjader,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
DNA,
ABBA,
Bush Tetras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reuben Wilson,
Urselle,
Ornette Coleman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerri Chandler,
The J.B.'s,
The Grass Roots,
Dead Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Yellowson,
Echospace,
Chrome,
Television Personalities,
Gang of Four,
Junior Murvin,
Hasil Adkins,
Sixth Finger,
The Busters,
Rufus Thomas,
La Düsseldorf,
The Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep,
Slave,
Barclay James Harvest,
MDC,
Procol Harum,
The Barracudas,
Ten City,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
Electric Prunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.