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 Albania and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rap 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Slits,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
Alton Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deadbeat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Organ,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Metal Thangz,
Bronski Beat,
Lower 48,
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Technova,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deakin,
Black Pus,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Gabor Szabo,
The Neon Judgement,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Television,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
June Days,
Derrick Morgan,
Piero Umiliani,
Groovy Waters,
Can,
Terry Callier,
Grauzone,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.