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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Black Pus to the funk 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scott Walker,
Crime,
Jacob Miller,
Barrington Levy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
Basic Channel,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
Aswad,
Guru Guru,
Q and Not U,
Sparks,
Niagra,
Bush Tetras,
Echospace,
Joyce Sims,
Siglo XX,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood,
The Fugs,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boredoms,
The Detroit Cobras,
Patti Smith,
Joe Smooth,
Minny Pops,
Roger Hodgson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dead Boys,
The Leaves,
Audionom,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
This Heat,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis,
The Searchers,
Rapeman,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Livin' Joy,
Terry Callier,
The Fortunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Johnny Clarke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dark Day,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.