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 Kiribati and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MC5 to the rap 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Harmonia,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
The Wake,
The Tremeloes,
Sam Rivers,
Schoolly D,
Brass Construction,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doors,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronan,
Roxette,
X-101,
Tim Buckley,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
R.M.O.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gabor Szabo,
Kayak,
Man Eating Sloth,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Newcleus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Idris Muhammad,
Minor Threat,
Flash Fearless,
Eric Dolphy,
Albert Ayler,
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
The Fall,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
48th St. Collective,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dual Sessions,
Quadrant,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.