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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jesper Dahlback to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
The Dirtbombs,
The Selecter,
Cheater Slicks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gabor Szabo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Todd Terry,
Kurtis Blow,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Motions,
Yaz,
Rakim,
Cymande,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
Roxy Music,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Association,
John Lydon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Andrew Hill,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
Talk Talk,
The Star Department,
MDC,
Reuben Wilson,
The Real Kids,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Shuggie Otis,
David Bowie,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
Reagan Youth,
Main Source,
Morten Harket,
the Germs,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
Basic Channel,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.