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 Suriname and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rotary Connection,
Yusef Lateef,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
MDC,
Davy DMX,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
X-101,
Camouflage,
Boredoms,
The Happenings,
The Saints,
The Doors,
Bobby Byrd,
The Evens,
Sun City Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Iggy Pop,
Skriet,
Desert Stars,
The Monks,
Japan,
Public Image Ltd.,
These Immortal Souls,
Deakin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mr. Review,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sister Nancy,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox,
Das Ding,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Letta Mbulu,
The Pretty Things,
Fad Gadget,
Parry Music,
The Techniques,
Intrusion,
Junior Murvin,
Accadde A,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Smooth,
The Grass Roots,
Aswad,
cv313,
Wire,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.