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 Gabon and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Misunderstood to the electroclash 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Excepter,
Jeff Lynne,
Henry Cow,
Lyres,
Aswad,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
The Slits,
Althea and Donna,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Patti Smith,
Eli Mardock,
Boredoms,
Stetsasonic,
Yusef Lateef,
Siglo XX,
CMW,
The Stooges,
Rakim,
Blossom Toes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Wake,
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
Black Sheep,
Surgeon,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smoke,
The Leaves,
The Vogues,
Infiniti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Green,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gun Club,
Kevin Saunderson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glenn Branca,
Roy Ayers,
Pantaleimon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Zeros,
Faraquet,
Deakin,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.