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 Panama and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Public Enemy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 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,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
Sixth Finger,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Prunes,
the Human League,
Harry Pussy,
Juan Atkins,
kango's stein massive,
Chris & Cosey,
Excepter,
Sound Behaviour,
David Axelrod,
Little Man,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Cal Tjader,
Godley & Creme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Franke,
Gong,
Yaz,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus,
B.T. Express,
John Lydon,
Deadbeat,
The Index,
Outsiders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantaleimon,
Main Source,
Negative Approach,
Suicide,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.