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 Bahrain and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pretty Things to the rock 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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop,
Audionom,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Charles Mingus,
Zapp,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Bowie,
Sparks,
Rites of Spring,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monks,
John Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
The Searchers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
The Zeros,
the Bar-Kays,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gabor Szabo,
Yellowson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
These Immortal Souls,
Circle Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
Boz Scaggs,
The Last Poets,
Robert Wyatt,
Donny Hathaway,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
John Cale,
Lebanon Hanover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bob Dylan,
Trumans Water,
The Modern Lovers,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Pole,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.