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 Uzbekistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Khruangbin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
Black Bananas,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Osbourne,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Easy Going,
Aloha Tigers,
Wire,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
Audionom,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Scientists,
The Young Rascals,
Half Japanese,
Soul II Soul,
Piero Umiliani,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
The Durutti Column,
Magazine,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
Crash Course in Science,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Soft Machine,
Marine Girls,
The Slackers,
Rekid,
Shoche,
Joe Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Q and Not U,
the Slits,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Technova,
The Vogues,
Kaleidoscope,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Organ,
Sandy B,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.