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 Korea South and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James White and The Blacks to the disco 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Robert Hood,
La Düsseldorf,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
Bobby Womack,
The Sound,
Deakin,
Andrew Hill,
Lower 48,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Marmalade,
Minny Pops,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
The Star Department,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Leaves,
Agent Orange,
The Martian,
Silicon Teens,
Moss Icon,
The Misunderstood,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Halsall,
The Black Dice,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yazoo,
Pulsallama,
Siglo XX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Ohio Players,
Technova,
The Slackers,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lungfish,
Scratch Acid,
The J.B.'s,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.