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 Palau and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Procol Harum to the funk 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
Mission of Burma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rosa Yemen,
Lyres,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
Ken Boothe,
Accadde A,
The Evens,
Chris & Cosey,
Minor Threat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Gastr Del Sol,
Little Man,
Second Layer,
John Lydon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sight & Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Wells,
D'Angelo,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donny Hathaway,
Prince Buster,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
The Red Krayola,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sällskapet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.