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 Netherlands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Jimmy McGriff to the electroclash 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
Lucky Dragons,
Letta Mbulu,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
Massinfluence,
These Immortal Souls,
DNA,
Stetsasonic,
The Dirtbombs,
The Beau Brummels,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
R.M.O.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
Deadbeat,
PIL,
Deepchord,
Soul Sonic Force,
Royal Trux,
Fluxion,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Sun Ra,
Dark Day,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash,
L. Decosne,
Maleditus Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Skaos,
Warren Ellis,
The Victims,
Soul II Soul,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
Mark Hollis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Franke,
Arcadia,
Accadde A,
Pagans,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.