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 Morocco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Half Japanese to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Womack,
Stetsasonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Echospace,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bob Dylan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Golliwogs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
Peter and Kerry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Cecil Taylor,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Selecter,
Sound Behaviour,
Youth Brigade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ice-T,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
These Immortal Souls,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Invisible,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
X-102,
Joey Negro,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Age Steppers,
John Holt,
The Gladiators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Pus,
Pantytec,
the Germs,
Bootsy Collins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Five Americans,
LL Cool J,
The Buckinghams,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.