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 Tonga and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Carl Craig to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
Franke,
Faust,
Brick,
Eric Dolphy,
EPMD,
Second Layer,
Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cramps,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
Maleditus Sound,
Rakim,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Nico,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
Bluetip,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
Severed Heads,
Letta Mbulu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Hoover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Cymande,
Josef K,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brand Nubian,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liliput,
Tears for Fears,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.