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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Germs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Magma,
Symarip,
Popol Vuh,
Joy Division,
The Grass Roots,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
10cc,
Curtis Mayfield,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Stetsasonic,
Harry Pussy,
The Beau Brummels,
Blancmange,
Mo-Dettes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun Ra,
Lindisfarne,
The Smiths,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
Dennis Brown,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Trojans,
The Blackbyrds,
Cybotron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hardrive,
Yellowson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gong,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
The Velvet Underground,
Warren Ellis,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Prince Buster,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Buckinghams,
The Gun Club,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.