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 Yemen and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Second Layer to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
KRS-One,
Loose Ends,
Public Image Ltd.,
Shoche,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fluxion,
Fad Gadget,
Matthew Bourne,
Alison Limerick,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neil Young,
John Holt,
Das Ding,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
X-101,
Anthony Braxton,
H. Thieme,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pantytec,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fatback Band,
Henry Cow,
Electric Prunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slackers,
cv313,
Sister Nancy,
The Offenders,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake,
Brand Nubian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
The Move,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Minnie Riperton,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
Interpol,
Basic Channel,
Rakim,
The Techniques,
The Fall,
Archie Shepp,
These Immortal Souls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Intrusion,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.