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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Skatalites to the punk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Busters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MC5,
Don Cherry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Spandau Ballet,
The Divine Comedy,
Aural Exciters,
Khruangbin,
Archie Shepp,
Fat Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Newcleus,
the Association,
Judy Mowatt,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
Drexciya,
Delta 5,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Steve Hackett,
Siglo XX,
Minutemen,
Joy Division,
Eddi Front,
John Holt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
Howard Jones,
Ronan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
Sound Behaviour,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Axelrod,
Ponytail,
Camouflage,
Lungfish,
Public Enemy,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon,
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.