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 Iraq and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alison Limerick to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Babytalk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Standells,
Black Flag,
The Remains,
Crooked Eye,
Aswad,
Bad Manners,
The Move,
Scott Walker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chris Corsano,
The Invisible,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Copeland,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Offenders,
The Slackers,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
Clear Light,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Magma,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
Terry Callier,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Five Americans,
Wire,
The Kinks,
John Lydon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Smog,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Organ,
R.M.O.,
The Index,
Mars,
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.