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 Mauritius and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the punk 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Patti Smith,
June Days,
Boz Scaggs,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Fad Gadget,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jawbox,
Lalo Schifrin,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Lakeside,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fat Boys,
Davy DMX,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cure,
Ronan,
The Modern Lovers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
The Saints,
Erasure,
X-101,
Brick,
Pylon,
Mantronix,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Kinks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Toasters,
Von Mondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythm & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sugar Minott,
The Fortunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Rundgren,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.