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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alton Ellis to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick Morgan,
Marmalade,
The Doors,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fortunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
Jawbox,
Soulsonic Force,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fatback Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
The Index,
Harmonia,
Shuggie Otis,
Hot Snakes,
Moss Icon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stiv Bators,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Womack,
Dual Sessions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Ohio Players,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Divine Comedy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Popol Vuh,
Sex Pistols,
Don Cherry,
Royal Trux,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cluster,
Lou Christie,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Soft Machine,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
The Searchers,
Neu!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Excepter,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.