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 San Marino and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 The Pretty Things to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed,
Cameo,
The Offenders,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Index,
Interpol,
The Sound,
The Trojans,
The Five Americans,
The Black Dice,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Procol Harum,
Q and Not U,
Tom Boy,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erasure,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Skatalites,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stereo Dub,
Skriet,
The Smoke,
Scott Walker,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
The Leaves,
Organ,
Animal Collective,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
The Associates,
Gastr Del Sol,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Neon Judgement,
Marcia Griffiths,
Maleditus Sound,
Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
Scratch Acid,
Max Romeo,
Tommy Roe,
Intrusion,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Curtis Mayfield,
Subhumans,
Sonic Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.