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 Yemen and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Fela Kuti to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster 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?
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terry Callier,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Kinks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Don Cherry,
Kurtis Blow,
Sandy B,
Jeff Lynne,
Inner City,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Smoke,
John Foxx,
Pylon,
the Slits,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
The Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Fluxion,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
Visage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camouflage,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
Moss Icon,
Derrick Morgan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter,
New Order,
Pagans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hoover,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Happenings,
Kenny Larkin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Zero Boys,
Underground Resistance,
Q65,
Funkadelic,
The Associates,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.