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 Qatar and from Lagos.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Quantec to the grime 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Soft Cell,
The Index,
X-Ray Spex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Standells,
Sound Behaviour,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mandrill,
Connie Case,
The Happenings,
Jerry's Kids,
Urselle,
Archie Shepp,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
The Monks,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Smog,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fear,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rufus Thomas,
Flash Fearless,
Funkadelic,
June Days,
48th St. Collective,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
Brand Nubian,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Bowie,
Barbara Tucker,
Mark Hollis,
The New Christs,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pantytec,
Skaos,
Scrapy,
Arab on Radar,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
Ken Boothe,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.