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 Brunei and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Danielle Patucci to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Howard Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Tom Boy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Symarip,
Cybotron,
the Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Nik Kershaw,
Agent Orange,
Mandrill,
Pussy Galore,
Guru Guru,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
Can,
The Toasters,
Underground Resistance,
Joy Division,
Isaac Hayes,
The Evens,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Black Dice,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Womack,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
Ralphi Rosario,
Max Romeo,
The Zeros,
Prince Buster,
The Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Niagra,
Todd Terry,
Sound Behaviour,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
The Remains,
Crash Course in Science,
Heaven 17,
Newcleus,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.