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 Liechtenstein and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dennis Brown to the techno 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Tropical Tobacco,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
Soft Machine,
Minny Pops,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed,
One Last Wish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Names,
Wasted Youth,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
Zapp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül II,
These Immortal Souls,
Nik Kershaw,
Carl Craig,
Black Flag,
Barry Ungar,
Ultravox,
Peter and Kerry,
Metal Thangz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Heaven 17,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Prince Buster,
X-102,
Alison Limerick,
Drexciya,
Kas Product,
Outsiders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brand Nubian,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Sex Pistols,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Symarip,
Spandau Ballet,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.