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 Panama and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fire Engines to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Jerry's Kids,
Prince Buster,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
The Knickerbockers,
Lightning Bolt,
Nik Kershaw,
Ice-T,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Trumans Water,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Hardrive,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Amon Düül,
Young Marble Giants,
Mandrill,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
ABC,
Isaac Hayes,
The United States of America,
Maurizio,
David Axelrod,
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
Deakin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sarah Menescal,
Lakeside,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash,
Urselle,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
Television,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lindisfarne,
The Young Rascals,
June of 44,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter,
the Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
Babytalk,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.