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 Haiti and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Quando Quango to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
D'Angelo,
Metal Thangz,
Matthew Halsall,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
Agitation Free,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
The Pop Group,
Eric Copeland,
Hasil Adkins,
Sound Behaviour,
Q65,
Unrelated Segments,
Fear,
Radio Birdman,
Ronnie Foster,
Marine Girls,
Ituana,
Blossom Toes,
The Real Kids,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Excepter,
Radiohead,
Bob Dylan,
Judy Mowatt,
Sarah Menescal,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Depeche Mode,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Howard Jones,
Model 500,
Marvin Gaye,
Iggy Pop,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scion,
Johnny Clarke,
The Standells,
Jacques Brel,
Gabor Szabo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bill Wells,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.