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 Pakistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Prince Buster to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Interpol,
Tommy Roe,
Gichy Dan,
Angry Samoans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mr. Review,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nils Olav,
Rekid,
Animal Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA,
Theoretical Girls,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Marcia Griffiths,
Clear Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
Crooked Eye,
Connie Case,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grey Daturas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ornette Coleman,
Monolake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-101,
Negative Approach,
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siglo XX,
Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
L. Decosne,
Tim Buckley,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Y Pants,
Supertramp,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cowsills,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.