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 Malta and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grunge 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Human League,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
In Retrospect,
Sixth Finger,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Make Up,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Yellowson,
New York Dolls,
the Sonics,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jawbox,
The Kinks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pere Ubu,
Terry Callier,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
Scott Walker,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fortunes,
The Evens,
the Bar-Kays,
Skriet,
The Smoke,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Echospace,
Khruangbin,
The Blues Magoos,
Joe Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Donny Hathaway,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.