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 Moldova and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pulsallama to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Sound Behaviour,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monochrome Set,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mantronix,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Severed Heads,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
Ituana,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Techniques,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lower 48,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MDC,
OOIOO,
Wings,
EPMD,
The Red Krayola,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Youth Brigade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Slits,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Colin Newman,
Brick,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Subhumans,
Sällskapet,
Make Up,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Quantec,
Nirvana,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.