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 Fiji and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Fela Kuti to the techno 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
Deakin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Metal Thangz,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Japan,
Stereo Dub,
Loose Ends,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
Scan 7,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Morten Harket,
John Holt,
Interpol,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Qualms,
ABBA,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Invisible,
Shoche,
Radiohead,
Lebanon Hanover,
Youth Brigade,
The Count Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Starr,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Con Funk Shun,
Blake Baxter,
Smog,
The Barracudas,
Joey Negro,
Brass Construction,
Altered Images,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Easy Going,
Silicon Teens,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.