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 Norway and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the crunk 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
DNA,
The Offenders,
Lungfish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minny Pops,
Oneida,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Moleskins,
The Litter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Clarke,
Second Layer,
The Star Department,
Pole,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glenn Branca,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rekid,
Half Japanese,
The Divine Comedy,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Josef K,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiohead,
Yellowson,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
Rites of Spring,
China Crisis,
Eddi Front,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Intrusion,
Fear,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glambeats Corp.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Neon Judgement,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.