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 Tuvalu and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Buzzcocks 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
The Durutti Column,
Alison Limerick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
The Move,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stiv Bators,
Stereo Dub,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Brick,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
ABBA,
Gang Green,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
The Raincoats,
These Immortal Souls,
Isaac Hayes,
Boredoms,
Robert Hood,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Erykah Badu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Grass Roots,
The Toasters,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
This Heat,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultra Naté,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Parry Music,
Das Ding,
Crispy Ambulance,
Young Marble Giants,
Marine Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Joe Smooth,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.