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 Afghanistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sun Ra to the jazz 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Whodini,
Liliput,
Rosa Yemen,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
The Vogues,
Monks,
Sixth Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed,
Brick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Letta Mbulu,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Parry Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Carl Craig,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eddi Front,
Sound Behaviour,
Tim Buckley,
Ponytail,
Marshall Jefferson,
Absolute Body Control,
Boogie Down Productions,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dennis Brown,
Massinfluence,
Crooked Eye,
Japan,
kango's stein massive,
John Foxx,
Minor Threat,
Accadde A,
Kayak,
Khruangbin,
The Kinks,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Velvet Underground,
Amazonics,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Copeland,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls,
The Remains,
Cal Tjader,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.