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 Namibia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
The United States of America,
The Cowsills,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Talk Talk,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
Black Moon,
Bob Dylan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Qualms,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
Vainqueur,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Junior Murvin,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ossler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Visage,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Star Department,
Porter Ricks,
Underground Resistance,
Gong,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
The Moleskins,
Joensuu 1685,
Buzzcocks,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
T. Rex,
Crime,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
the Association,
Fela Kuti,
The Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.