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 Georgia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barrington Levy 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doors,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
Faust,
Pylon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cowsills,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
The Tremeloes,
Marine Girls,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sugar Minott,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ponytail,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Banda Bassotti,
John Holt,
Cheater Slicks,
Interpol,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stereo Dub,
Mary Jane Girls,
Outsiders,
Dennis Brown,
Bang On A Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zero Boys,
Hoover,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Groovy Waters,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
The Gladiators,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
Harmonia,
The Toasters,
Robert Wyatt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.