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 Grenada and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erykah Badu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Henry Cow,
John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
The Walker Brothers,
Fear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Knickerbockers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Germs,
Chris & Cosey,
Mandrill,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kurtis Blow,
Nils Olav,
Goldenarms,
Dave Gahan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gun Club,
Fatback Band,
The Golliwogs,
Fugazi,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faust,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Mojo Men,
KRS-One,
Brand Nubian,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Terry,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Music Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
Jacob Miller,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.