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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
The American Breed,
Gichy Dan,
Anthony Braxton,
E-Dancer,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Pulsallama,
The Misunderstood,
Minutemen,
The Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Eddi Front,
Sam Rivers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Pantaleimon,
The Residents,
The Monks,
Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Pussy Galore,
Flash Fearless,
Ultravox,
Bill Near,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
Inner City,
Agitation Free,
Sandy B,
The Golliwogs,
Oneida,
Man Eating Sloth,
Schoolly D,
Amon Düül,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Colin Newman,
Quantec,
DJ Style,
Supertramp,
The Evens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fall,
Brand Nubian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Roxy Music,
Black Bananas,
Lalann,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Toasters,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.