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 Comoros and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Fela Kuti,
Zapp,
T.S.O.L.,
Nik Kershaw,
Section 25,
Scott Walker,
Althea and Donna,
Black Moon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Siglo XX,
Nils Olav,
Mad Mike,
Sonic Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pylon,
Urselle,
Donald Byrd,
Michelle Simonal,
Thee Headcoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Franke,
The Dirtbombs,
Supertramp,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Ituana,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Saints,
Rotary Connection,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy Collins,
A Certain Ratio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moody Blues,
The Divine Comedy,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
The Litter,
The Durutti Column,
Monolake,
Ten City,
The Gun Club,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Sight & Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Görl,
Moebius,
Brothers Johnson,
cv313,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
the Human League,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.