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 United States and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 DJ Sneak to the grime 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Niagra,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pussy Galore,
Jandek,
Chris Corsano,
Graham Central Station,
Reagan Youth,
Scientists,
Deepchord,
Steve Hackett,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fat Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Tears for Fears,
Chris & Cosey,
Archie Shepp,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Young Rascals,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sandy B,
Cal Tjader,
Make Up,
Crime,
Procol Harum,
Howard Jones,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Smog,
Roxette,
cv313,
Livin' Joy,
The Monochrome Set,
New Order,
Pylon,
Lightning Bolt,
The Divine Comedy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Green,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Lydon,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Erasure,
Lakeside,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.