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 Bolivia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick Morgan,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Althea and Donna,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Josef K,
Minny Pops,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
Nas,
Qualms,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Black Sheep,
Joy Division,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Carl Craig,
Altered Images,
Magazine,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Average White Band,
10cc,
The Beau Brummels,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Reed,
Barry Ungar,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eden Ahbez,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.