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 Estonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Peter & Gordon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks 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?
Stetsasonic,
The Busters,
Quando Quango,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maleditus Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Skarface,
Simply Red,
Barry Ungar,
The Fugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
Todd Terry,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Scan 7,
Wire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Erasure,
Nils Olav,
Anthony Braxton,
Aswad,
Funkadelic,
Roger Hodgson,
Donald Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Camouflage,
Rekid,
Jandek,
Mo-Dettes,
Howard Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sight & Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Rotary Connection,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Liliput,
Buzzcocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Pus,
Joe Finger,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Green,
T. Rex,
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
Eurythmics,
The Skatalites,
Icehouse,
Pussy Galore,
Sound Behaviour,
Moby Grape,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.