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 Liechtenstein and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smoke,
Qualms,
MDC,
Cecil Taylor,
The J.B.'s,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
the Swans,
John Holt,
K-Klass,
The Standells,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The United States of America,
Eddi Front,
The Star Department,
Ten City,
Massinfluence,
Motorama,
Skriet,
Matthew Halsall,
Sex Pistols,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
the Sonics,
Blancmange,
Marvin Gaye,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donny Hathaway,
Model 500,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arcadia,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eric Copeland,
Oneida,
Lindisfarne,
Arab on Radar,
the Soft Cell,
Roxette,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nico,
Masters at Work,
The Monks,
Deepchord,
Minutemen,
MC5,
Henry Cow,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.