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 Costa Rica and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aaron Thompson to the grime 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Modern Lovers,
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Trojans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
B.T. Express,
the Swans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ludus,
The Invisible,
Toni Rubio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Nico,
Lower 48,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pussy Galore,
Schoolly D,
Negative Approach,
Byron Stingily,
Peter & Gordon,
Max Romeo,
Clear Light,
Flipper,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Inner City,
Eve St. Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ornette Coleman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy Collins,
The Count Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
CMW,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Carl Craig,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cheater Slicks,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Kenny Larkin,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blancmange,
Erykah Badu,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.