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 Brunei and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dead Boys to the grunge 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joy Division,
The Selecter,
The Leaves,
Khruangbin,
Fluxion,
Bush Tetras,
Donny Hathaway,
Rod Modell,
The Mummies,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
China Crisis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
Technova,
Connie Case,
Brand Nubian,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Lee Hazlewood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yaz,
Andrew Hill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Techniques,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
World's Most,
Matthew Halsall,
the Bar-Kays,
Pagans,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Clarke,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
Pole,
Lou Reed,
David McCallum,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neil Young,
Gang Green,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Tomorrow,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.