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 Micronesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Davy DMX to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Standells,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fuzztones,
Yellowson,
The Toasters,
DNA,
The Human League,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monks,
Zapp,
Khruangbin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Surgeon,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Intrusion,
Minny Pops,
Shuggie Otis,
the Bar-Kays,
Vladislav Delay,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gories,
Tears for Fears,
Outsiders,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marvin Gaye,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Kinks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Can,
Schoolly D,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
Marshall Jefferson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quantec,
Neil Young,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
EPMD,
Masters at Work,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pierre Henry,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.