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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Y Pants,
Theoretical Girls,
The Buckinghams,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
The Sonics,
Zero Boys,
The Offenders,
Judy Mowatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Joey Negro,
Little Man,
Lou Christie,
Eddi Front,
Spandau Ballet,
Terry Callier,
Visage,
World's Most,
Radiohead,
Wire,
Dark Day,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Scientists,
Pole,
Brand Nubian,
LL Cool J,
The Red Krayola,
Mark Hollis,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
The New Christs,
Colin Newman,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Albert Ayler,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
Chrome,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.