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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Todd Terry to the disco 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
Josef K,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Janne Schatter,
The Golliwogs,
Mandrill,
Johnny Clarke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Youth Brigade,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monochrome Set,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Velvet Underground,
Alice Coltrane,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Black Sheep,
The Busters,
The Offenders,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skarface,
Outsiders,
The United States of America,
The Alarm Clocks,
Infiniti,
Ronnie Foster,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
Eddi Front,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cecil Taylor,
Morten Harket,
Swell Maps,
Marvin Gaye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
The Zeros,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
Scientists,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.