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 Qatar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Metal Thangz to the grime 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Los Fastidios,
Oneida,
Pole,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ronnie Foster,
Suicide,
Hoover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Invisible,
Lower 48,
Lyres,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lightning Bolt,
the Bar-Kays,
Aloha Tigers,
The Motions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radio Birdman,
Fela Kuti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mission of Burma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Interpol,
Joyce Sims,
Subhumans,
Gang Green,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Danielle Patucci,
Moby Grape,
Blossom Toes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
Moebius,
Sun Ra,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Bob Dylan,
Suburban Knight,
Can,
The Human League,
Black Flag,
The Gories,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ten City,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.