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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Cheater Slicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Accadde A,
Gang Gang Dance,
Juan Atkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Yellowson,
Black Sheep,
Joy Division,
Ralphi Rosario,
Judy Mowatt,
Lindisfarne,
Crash Course in Science,
Guru Guru,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scratch Acid,
Sonic Youth,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Patti Smith,
The Fortunes,
Angry Samoans,
Basic Channel,
JFA,
Kevin Saunderson,
Agitation Free,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fela Kuti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arthur Verocai,
Alton Ellis,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slits,
DNA,
Arab on Radar,
Hasil Adkins,
Heaven 17,
The Monochrome Set,
Isaac Hayes,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Sherman,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
Saccharine Trust,
Morten Harket,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Pretty Things,
The Saints,
The J.B.'s,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.