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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
The Red Krayola,
Yaz,
Q and Not U,
David McCallum,
Magazine,
Scientists,
New Age Steppers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare,
Peter and Kerry,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Mission of Burma,
Lungfish,
Ten City,
Rites of Spring,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Loose Ends,
Delta 5,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiohead,
Deakin,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Whodini,
Interpol,
Fatback Band,
Skarface,
Minutemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roger Hodgson,
Yazoo,
Dual Sessions,
Easy Going,
Joe Finger,
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
Connie Case,
Bootsy Collins,
Scott Walker,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Joy Division,
The New Christs,
Andrew Hill,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
Bauhaus,
Juan Atkins,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.