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 Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moleskins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Bowie,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Albert Ayler,
Grey Daturas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pretty Things,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
MDC,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Television Personalities,
Popol Vuh,
Quadrant,
Jawbox,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
The Durutti Column,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
DNA,
Essential Logic,
The Smiths,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
Faust,
Adolescents,
Tears for Fears,
Colin Newman,
Gang Gang Dance,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
Desert Stars,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantytec,
Scrapy,
Rekid,
Masters at Work,
Crooked Eye,
Sun City Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.