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 Mali and from Cairo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the funk 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
The Offenders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Section 25,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Wire,
Groovy Waters,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang On A Can,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
T.S.O.L.,
Lyres,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
Malaria!,
The Golliwogs,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
Mark Hollis,
Easy Going,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quantec,
Neu!,
Yaz,
Sparks,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
Inner City,
Aaron Thompson,
Ken Boothe,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Toni Rubio,
Half Japanese,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Excepter,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Rundgren,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
Stetsasonic,
Negative Approach,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.