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 Hungary and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Josef K to the dance 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Black Moon,
UT,
Skarface,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
X-101,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cramps,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Faust,
Rapeman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slave,
the Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Scratch Acid,
Vainqueur,
Mission of Burma,
Henry Cow,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Von Mondo,
48th St. Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus,
the Slits,
Wally Richardson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slackers,
The Busters,
Wasted Youth,
Y Pants,
Rotary Connection,
Darondo,
Fear,
Ice-T,
Whodini,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.