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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 The Searchers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang 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?
Panda Bear,
X-101,
Guru Guru,
Arab on Radar,
The Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
MDC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barrington Levy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Chrome,
Monolake,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Judy Mowatt,
The Knickerbockers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nico,
Boz Scaggs,
Liliput,
The Music Machine,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tears for Fears,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fugs,
Q65,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fuzztones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Archie Shepp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
The Evens,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.