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 Sri Lanka and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Circle Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
Index,
Robert Hood,
Scientists,
The Fall,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
Joey Negro,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sister Nancy,
Fad Gadget,
Charles Mingus,
Colin Newman,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Outsiders,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
D'Angelo,
Underground Resistance,
The Young Rascals,
The Litter,
Barry Ungar,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
Drexciya,
Mantronix,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
Warsaw,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Babytalk,
Deepchord,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Television,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mad Mike,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Supertramp,
Lee Hazlewood,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo 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.