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 Germany and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
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 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 Henry Cow to the jazz 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Subhumans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
Scott Walker,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bush Tetras,
The Monochrome Set,
Lindisfarne,
The Selecter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Accadde A,
Curtis Mayfield,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bluetip,
Symarip,
UT,
Tropical Tobacco,
Easy Going,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
AZ,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed,
The Moleskins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cameo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cymande,
Amon Düül II,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fear,
Procol Harum,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Bill Wells,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Guru Guru,
LL Cool J,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Can,
The Slackers,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.