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 Denmark and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
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 guitar 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 Niagra 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Little Man,
Con Funk Shun,
Sixth Finger,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
UT,
Alton Ellis,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Warsaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skriet,
Anakelly,
Cheater Slicks,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Hood,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
Barrington Levy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tres Demented,
Bauhaus,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Godley & Creme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Interpol,
Royal Trux,
Roxy Music,
Swans,
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas,
Suicide,
Neu!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Freddie Wadling,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
Juan Atkins,
Aswad,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.