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 Laos and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 CMW to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The American Breed,
The Searchers,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thompson Twins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun City Girls,
Blossom Toes,
The Victims,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Kaleidoscope,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
Lyres,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Graham Central Station,
Stetsasonic,
the Association,
Aswad,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
Surgeon,
KRS-One,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers,
Audionom,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Public Enemy,
The Fall,
Donny Hathaway,
Warsaw,
Scion,
Barbara Tucker,
Agent Orange,
Eli Mardock,
Inner City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scientists,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yazoo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mr. Review,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Order,
Jimmy McGriff,
Das Ding,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.