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 Brunei and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Jacob Miller to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Slick Rick,
Donald Byrd,
Quando Quango,
The Fugs,
Television Personalities,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Half Japanese,
Popol Vuh,
Ituana,
The Index,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Shoche,
DJ Sneak,
cv313,
Colin Newman,
Rosa Yemen,
Darondo,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spoonie Gee,
Scientists,
The Zeros,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quantec,
Brass Construction,
Terry Callier,
Main Source,
Mr. Review,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Pere Ubu,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Cluster,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
Pantytec,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soft Machine,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Arthur Verocai,
Negative Approach,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.