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 Venezuela and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Smiths to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Liliput,
Lalann,
Tommy Roe,
The Fall,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
Mo-Dettes,
The Remains,
The Real Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Royal Trux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Smog,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
Bush Tetras,
Quantec,
the Normal,
Danielle Patucci,
The Moleskins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Theoretical Girls,
The New Christs,
Dual Sessions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Copeland,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rosa Yemen,
Fluxion,
Black Pus,
Sister Nancy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television,
Hardrive,
Ultra Naté,
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Alton Ellis,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Index,
Grey Daturas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Second Layer,
Altered Images,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radiohead,
The Grass Roots,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.