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 Nauru and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Black Pus to the jazz 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Khruangbin,
The Count Five,
Slick Rick,
Au Pairs,
Q and Not U,
Niagra,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The New Christs,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
Agent Orange,
The Durutti Column,
The Offenders,
Loose Ends,
Jawbox,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Young Marble Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
Ronnie Foster,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Holt,
Yusef Lateef,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oneida,
The Slackers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Litter,
Bill Near,
Spandau Ballet,
Audionom,
The Pretty Things,
Kurtis Blow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thee Headcoats,
Vainqueur,
Pussy Galore,
Danielle Patucci,
Rites of Spring,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
Nas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.