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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Minor Threat to the rap 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Spandau Ballet,
The Music Machine,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
Audionom,
Nas,
Roxette,
Y Pants,
Black Sheep,
Crash Course in Science,
Ralphi Rosario,
Idris Muhammad,
Arcadia,
Marmalade,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
The Move,
Underground Resistance,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
Smog,
Scientists,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols,
Icehouse,
Rosa Yemen,
K-Klass,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mad Mike,
Popol Vuh,
Pantytec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
Lightning Bolt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yaz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric Dolphy,
Minutemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lucky Dragons,
a-ha,
Bluetip,
Procol Harum,
The Modern Lovers,
Desert Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.