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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 American Breed 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Modern Lovers,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
48th St. Collective,
Ken Boothe,
MC5,
Circle Jerks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rosa Yemen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lindisfarne,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Golliwogs,
Curtis Mayfield,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Negative Approach,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Young Marble Giants,
Judy Mowatt,
Fatback Band,
Dennis Brown,
Charles Mingus,
Cal Tjader,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Groovy Waters,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Susan Cadogan,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
The Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Barbara Tucker,
The Slits,
the Human League,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
CMW,
Pharoah Sanders,
Audionom,
Metal Thangz,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gun Club,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.