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 Denmark and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Gang Starr to the grime 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
The Tremeloes,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pole,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Starr,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
Maleditus Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Sixth Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DNA,
Tim Buckley,
Pere Ubu,
Quando Quango,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quantec,
Donald Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Certain Ratio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Audionom,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
The Slits,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Chrome,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Can,
Eddi Front,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick May,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lungfish,
Dead Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shoche,
Don Cherry,
David McCallum,
Archie Shepp,
Radiohead,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sparks,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.