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 Iran and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
In Retrospect,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
Metal Thangz,
Fela Kuti,
Cymande,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
Rosa Yemen,
EPMD,
Saccharine Trust,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
UT,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alison Limerick,
Deepchord,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra,
Sparks,
The Gories,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
T.S.O.L.,
B.T. Express,
Oneida,
Eve St. Jones,
Lakeside,
Young Marble Giants,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Black Dice,
Al Stewart,
Masters at Work,
Blake Baxter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Mantronix,
Model 500,
Eric Copeland,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Section 25,
The Slits,
Derrick May,
Shoche,
Moss Icon,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.