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 East Timor and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Doors to the funk 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Urselle,
Tears for Fears,
Audionom,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
OOIOO,
DJ Sneak,
Black Pus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Searchers,
La Düsseldorf,
10cc,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Skatalites,
The Kinks,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Intrusion,
KRS-One,
Royal Trux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Accadde A,
the Normal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Circle Jerks,
Niagra,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
X-102,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Popol Vuh,
Susan Cadogan,
Cybotron,
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Essential Logic,
Peter & Gordon,
The Neon Judgement,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sonics,
Radiohead,
Sandy B,
Nick Fraelich,
The Doors,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slackers,
Rites of Spring,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.