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 Mauritania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jacob Miller to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
K-Klass,
cv313,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Rekid,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
The Mojo Men,
Curtis Mayfield,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
Flipper,
Motorama,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Franke,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Howard Jones,
Oblivians,
Agent Orange,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
Tears for Fears,
Main Source,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Skaos,
Godley & Creme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yaz,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
Nas,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
EPMD,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Absolute Body Control,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Terry,
Jandek,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Brick,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.