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 Namibia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Funkadelic,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Livin' Joy,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
Nik Kershaw,
Ornette Coleman,
Barrington Levy,
Marine Girls,
Delta 5,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Desert Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anakelly,
Chris Corsano,
Rakim,
Motorama,
Ice-T,
Black Pus,
The Techniques,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stetsasonic,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
Sällskapet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Motions,
Section 25,
The Smiths,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Infiniti,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
Janne Schatter,
The Count Five,
Average White Band,
The Cure,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camberwell Now,
Howard Jones,
The Trojans,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.