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 Estonia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pharoah Sanders 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
The Litter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
The Index,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
Althea and Donna,
The United States of America,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
The Leaves,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Nico,
Bill Wells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Supertramp,
John Coltrane,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radio Birdman,
Model 500,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Das Ding,
Alice Coltrane,
Donny Hathaway,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pantaleimon,
Fatback Band,
The Remains,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bauhaus,
The Zeros,
The American Breed,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.