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 Ivory Coast and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Janne Schatter,
X-Ray Spex,
Byron Stingily,
The Martian,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Surgeon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
Moby Grape,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arcadia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
These Immortal Souls,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Sällskapet,
Audionom,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yusef Lateef,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Scan 7,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angry Samoans,
Lyres,
The Leaves,
Ossler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faust,
Mars,
Susan Cadogan,
Lindisfarne,
Aural Exciters,
Brothers Johnson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q and Not U,
Radio Birdman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June Days,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.