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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Ken Boothe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
Dead Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Al Stewart,
T. Rex,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantaleimon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Godley & Creme,
Shoche,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
Spoonie Gee,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moleskins,
Archie Shepp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultra Naté,
The Last Poets,
The Techniques,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Flag,
The Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Cluster,
Royal Trux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantytec,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
Camberwell Now,
Cybotron,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Starr,
Popol Vuh,
Aural Exciters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scientists,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronnie Foster,
Circle Jerks,
The Seeds,
Liliput,
Aswad,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
DJ Style,
Wings,
The American Breed,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.