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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jeff Lynne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quantec,
The Misunderstood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nik Kershaw,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Selecter,
Minnie Riperton,
Letta Mbulu,
The Toasters,
Infiniti,
Moebius,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
The Mojo Men,
Anthony Braxton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Magazine,
Pantytec,
The Golliwogs,
AZ,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television Personalities,
Lucky Dragons,
Make Up,
Patti Smith,
Ice-T,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
Flipper,
Brass Construction,
John Coltrane,
The Count Five,
Cluster,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Seeds,
Cameo,
Negative Approach,
Funky Four + One,
EPMD,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Clarke,
Glenn Branca,
Main Source,
Ronnie Foster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Royal Trux,
The Invisible,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.