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 Suriname and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shuggie Otis to the punk 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Rakim,
DJ Style,
Television,
Inner City,
Ice-T,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
Echospace,
Khruangbin,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pantytec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Technova,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Radio Birdman,
Kenny Larkin,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Ken Boothe,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pole,
Bush Tetras,
Judy Mowatt,
Can,
The Toasters,
Nick Fraelich,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra,
The Divine Comedy,
Model 500,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Flash Fearless,
Das Ding,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eurythmics,
Patti Smith,
Gichy Dan,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dirtbombs,
Basic Channel,
Swell Maps,
Toni Rubio,
Unwound,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Selecter,
John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Cameo,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.