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 Panama and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Scientists,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Certain Ratio,
Animal Collective,
The Remains,
Bizarre Inc.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Golliwogs,
Loose Ends,
The Saints,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marine Girls,
Vainqueur,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare,
Wasted Youth,
Kayak,
Silicon Teens,
Oneida,
Livin' Joy,
The Move,
Matthew Bourne,
Aswad,
Dennis Brown,
Easy Going,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Happenings,
Cymande,
Jerry's Kids,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
Maleditus Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Inner City,
Lou Christie,
Juan Atkins,
Jacob Miller,
The Fugs,
The Dead C,
Peter and Kerry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Interpol,
Reuben Wilson,
the Slits,
Can,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young,
Henry Cow,
Porter Ricks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Babytalk,
X-Ray Spex,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.