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 Pakistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 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 Pierre Henry to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
The Fugs,
Siglo XX,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vainqueur,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Parry Music,
Harry Pussy,
The Neon Judgement,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alice Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Moss Icon,
The Barracudas,
Robert Görl,
Cal Tjader,
Khruangbin,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Rod Modell,
Reuben Wilson,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Sheep,
Section 25,
Rotary Connection,
Nico,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Neu!,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fall,
Outsiders,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.