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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MC5 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Lower 48,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Jacob Miller,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Grey Daturas,
Connie Case,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Star Department,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gabor Szabo,
Joyce Sims,
Scrapy,
Fugazi,
Scion,
Don Cherry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
Roxy Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Wells,
A Certain Ratio,
Flipper,
MDC,
Von Mondo,
Robert Görl,
Faraquet,
Wings,
Fear,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Y Pants,
The Last Poets,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Yellowson,
Depeche Mode,
Judy Mowatt,
Reagan Youth,
Mo-Dettes,
The Slackers,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.