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 Gambia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Banda Bassotti to the rap 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Graham Central Station,
the Slits,
Yaz,
The Fuzztones,
Moss Icon,
Lower 48,
Underground Resistance,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Motorama,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moleskins,
Donny Hathaway,
The Walker Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
UT,
Pantaleimon,
Crime,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
Kenny Larkin,
Intrusion,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Reagan Youth,
The Remains,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tom Boy,
John Lydon,
Flash Fearless,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Technova,
Los Fastidios,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
Mo-Dettes,
New Order,
Carl Craig,
Maurizio,
Shuggie Otis,
Wolf Eyes,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Audionom,
The Pop Group,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Tears for Fears,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alton Ellis,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.