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 Portugal and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Funky Four + One to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Roxy Music,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Newcleus,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
Rakim,
The Doors,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
Swans,
Ten City,
Sarah Menescal,
Royal Trux,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
Scion,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Associates,
Bad Manners,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Smog,
Jacques Brel,
the Association,
Gang Gang Dance,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
AZ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Steve Hackett,
Siglo XX,
Masters at Work,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter & Gordon,
Bauhaus,
Pylon,
Skaos,
Moby Grape,
Fat Boys,
Monolake,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Technova,
Magma,
Ronan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.