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 South Sudan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Slackers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
The Angels of Light,
The Tremeloes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aaron Thompson,
Hardrive,
Eden Ahbez,
Loose Ends,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mo-Dettes,
Rod Modell,
The Dirtbombs,
Sound Behaviour,
Section 25,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Accadde A,
Second Layer,
Moebius,
Interpol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gladiators,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris & Cosey,
Frankie Knuckles,
Au Pairs,
The Golliwogs,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
The Divine Comedy,
John Cale,
Chrome,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
Thompson Twins,
Aswad,
Nirvana,
Animal Collective,
Simply Red,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
Morten Harket,
John Holt,
Pere Ubu,
Smog,
Pantaleimon,
Josef K,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
Alton Ellis,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.