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 Tunisia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Young Rascals to the grime 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
X-101,
Warren Ellis,
Yusef Lateef,
Byron Stingily,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Kayak,
MC5,
Piero Umiliani,
Joy Division,
The Mummies,
Interpol,
Harmonia,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
KRS-One,
Sight & Sound,
Jawbox,
Little Man,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
Black Sheep,
Joe Finger,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
Rufus Thomas,
Bob Dylan,
Fela Kuti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Smiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Magma,
The Names,
The Wake,
Ultra Naté,
Roger Hodgson,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Selecter,
Mad Mike,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
Cymande,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Subhumans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
This Heat,
The J.B.'s,
Jimmy McGriff,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.