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 Albania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the crunk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
DJ Sneak,
Pylon,
Niagra,
Charles Mingus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nas,
Harmonia,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
The Seeds,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Ronan,
Josef K,
Shoche,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funkadelic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Crash Course in Science,
China Crisis,
Jeff Mills,
U.S. Maple,
Lyres,
Fat Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Angry Samoans,
Basic Channel,
Babytalk,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
The Moody Blues,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Television Personalities,
Tears for Fears,
The Moleskins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bush Tetras,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ituana,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
Joy Division,
Oneida,
Khruangbin,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.