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 Sierra Leone and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ituana to the electroclash 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Byrd,
Yusef Lateef,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oneida,
Monolake,
Bush Tetras,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
Silicon Teens,
The Blackbyrds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Toni Rubio,
Warren Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nik Kershaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Archie Shepp,
the Bar-Kays,
Harmonia,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deadbeat,
Model 500,
Basic Channel,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
KRS-One,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Isaac Hayes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Albert Ayler,
New Age Steppers,
Oblivians,
Deepchord,
Index,
Young Marble Giants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Letta Mbulu,
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.