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 Zambia and from Woodstock.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 The Moody Blues 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Goldenarms,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Schoolly D,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
Rufus Thomas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
Sonny Sharrock,
Godley & Creme,
X-101,
Ultra Naté,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young,
David Bowie,
Mark Hollis,
Aloha Tigers,
Anakelly,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy Collins,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Residents,
Guru Guru,
Reuben Wilson,
Lindisfarne,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Germs,
Sister Nancy,
Massinfluence,
The Blues Magoos,
Juan Atkins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Pantaleimon,
The Trojans,
the Normal,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Agent Orange,
Funky Four + One,
Thompson Twins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.