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 Libya and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Fear to the jazz 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
Crime,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Happenings,
Mars,
Black Moon,
Agent Orange,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül II,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brand Nubian,
The Dirtbombs,
Malaria!,
The Music Machine,
EPMD,
The Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Monochrome Set,
Gong,
E-Dancer,
John Lydon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
MDC,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Essential Logic,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Christie,
Roxette,
Goldenarms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funkadelic,
Janne Schatter,
Ten City,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grey Daturas,
Fear,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
the Slits,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.