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 Armenia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Black Moon to the rap 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Pulsallama,
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
Rekid,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
FM Einheit,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
Altered Images,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New York Dolls,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
The Standells,
Joy Division,
Todd Terry,
Amon Düül,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
Grauzone,
Fatback Band,
Bauhaus,
The Fortunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Ornette Coleman,
ABC,
Godley & Creme,
China Crisis,
The Five Americans,
Alison Limerick,
the Normal,
Jeff Lynne,
Sugar Minott,
Lakeside,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
Visage,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Selecter,
Scion,
Agitation Free,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
The Motions,
Donny Hathaway,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unwound,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.