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 Belarus and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Jacques Brel to the disco 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
David Bowie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alton Ellis,
Reuben Wilson,
Pulsallama,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Grass Roots,
Newcleus,
Bad Manners,
Lakeside,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
Kenny Larkin,
Rhythm & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
JFA,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Buckinghams,
Max Romeo,
The Gladiators,
Thee Headcoats,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
EPMD,
DJ Style,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ken Boothe,
Pole,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.