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 Liechtenstein and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 Monks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reagan Youth,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
X-101,
China Crisis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Vainqueur,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul II Soul,
Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cameo,
Sonic Youth,
Stiv Bators,
The Gun Club,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
The Index,
MDC,
Cecil Taylor,
Barbara Tucker,
Audionom,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Hill,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Holt,
Fatback Band,
Yazoo,
The Stooges,
Index,
Japan,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Underground Resistance,
Scratch Acid,
Adolescents,
The Cure,
Organ,
Dennis Brown,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.