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 Syria and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aural Exciters to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Mills,
Crooked Eye,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonic Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angry Samoans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Liliput,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacob Miller,
Junior Murvin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Ludus,
Bobby Womack,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
T. Rex,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moody Blues,
Laurel Aitken,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
Minny Pops,
The Mummies,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
Icehouse,
Scan 7,
The Martian,
Gil Scott Heron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.