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 Marshall Islands and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 L. Decosne to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
kango's stein massive,
Minor Threat,
Can,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
Steve Hackett,
The Knickerbockers,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blake Baxter,
Siglo XX,
Sound Behaviour,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fugs,
Neu!,
Interpol,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantaleimon,
Albert Ayler,
Theoretical Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
F. McDonald,
The Skatalites,
Desert Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
Livin' Joy,
Ken Boothe,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Donny Hathaway,
Khruangbin,
DNA,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yusef Lateef,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Alice Coltrane,
Skaos,
Soul II Soul,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.