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 India and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Nas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Velvet Underground,
Popol Vuh,
Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
Minor Threat,
Youth Brigade,
Khruangbin,
the Germs,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-102,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Starr,
The Litter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Clear Light,
Ossler,
Gichy Dan,
The Move,
Chris Corsano,
Tommy Roe,
Bob Dylan,
Audionom,
Ice-T,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Henry Cow,
Colin Newman,
Saccharine Trust,
Faust,
Byron Stingily,
Marine Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Ronnie Foster,
Con Funk Shun,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dead C,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Skarface,
The Offenders,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
The Skatalites,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.