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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Monks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Stooges,
Underground Resistance,
David McCallum,
Unrelated Segments,
MC5,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
The Detroit Cobras,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boredoms,
Black Moon,
T. Rex,
Tubeway Army,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Sheep,
Shoche,
Infiniti,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeff Mills,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter and Kerry,
Brick,
Loose Ends,
Donald Byrd,
Crime,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed,
Organ,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick May,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Half Japanese,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.