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 Belgium and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Eve St. Jones,
L. Decosne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Tremeloes,
K-Klass,
Q and Not U,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Inner City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cameo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Circle Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
Niagra,
Second Layer,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
Symarip,
Kenny Larkin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quando Quango,
Barry Ungar,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Roxette,
Ponytail,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Severed Heads,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
The Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Beau Brummels,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Michelle Simonal,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Blake Baxter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
The Residents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.