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 Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rosa Yemen to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Niagra,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
The Skatalites,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Lydon,
Spandau Ballet,
Bill Near,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cymande,
Bill Wells,
Freddie Wadling,
Max Romeo,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Patti Smith,
Cal Tjader,
The Young Rascals,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sam Rivers,
Blancmange,
Curtis Mayfield,
June of 44,
Alice Coltrane,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Tremeloes,
Tim Buckley,
cv313,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash,
EPMD,
Rotary Connection,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave,
Albert Ayler,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
Y Pants,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
Arcadia,
Easy Going,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
DJ Style,
Henry Cow,
Heaven 17,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
Tomorrow,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.