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 Barbados and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Quando Quango,
Whodini,
Todd Rundgren,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
X-Ray Spex,
Wings,
Monolake,
Groovy Waters,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
Moebius,
Henry Cow,
The Kinks,
Excepter,
Oneida,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tomorrow,
Mars,
Fad Gadget,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Wells,
Audionom,
The Young Rascals,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tom Boy,
Blossom Toes,
Cheater Slicks,
Livin' Joy,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Motorama,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gun Club,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Byron Stingily,
Pet Shop Boys,
Public Enemy,
The Selecter,
DNA,
Crime,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.