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 El Salvador and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barclay James Harvest to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erasure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mo-Dettes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
The Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
Sound Behaviour,
The Human League,
John Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Underground Resistance,
In Retrospect,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nico,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gladiators,
Liliput,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joe Finger,
Little Man,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Altered Images,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang of Four,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kenny Larkin,
The Evens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Easy Going,
Niagra,
LL Cool J,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
L. Decosne,
Joey Negro,
The Divine Comedy,
Skarface,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
Nas,
The Gories,
Lou Christie,
Arthur Verocai,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.