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 Oman and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 United States of America to the funk 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 Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Brothers Johnson,
Blake Baxter,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smoke,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monochrome Set,
X-102,
Gang Green,
Howard Jones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Smog,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hashim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amon Düül II,
Royal Trux,
New Order,
The Smiths,
Slick Rick,
Radiohead,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nils Olav,
Jerry's Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
a-ha,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rakim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joensuu 1685,
Sam Rivers,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Idris Muhammad,
Monolake,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Dawn Penn,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Echospace,
The Gap Band,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.