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 Nepal and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 John Holt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
DNA,
Jacob Miller,
Freddie Wadling,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
The Fortunes,
Can,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hot Snakes,
Second Layer,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
John Foxx,
Mandrill,
A Certain Ratio,
Young Marble Giants,
Suburban Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
X-102,
Boz Scaggs,
Faust,
Funkadelic,
Silicon Teens,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
B.T. Express,
Black Flag,
Eddi Front,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Alphaville,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald,
June of 44,
Aloha Tigers,
Accadde A,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Moon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joy Division,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Christie,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.