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 Solomon Islands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Masters at Work 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Lucky Dragons,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ossler,
Pierre Henry,
Jacques Brel,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Pulsallama,
OOIOO,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Neu!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Real Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
China Crisis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
One Last Wish,
Ohio Players,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Rekid,
The American Breed,
The Index,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
Connie Case,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.