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 Israel and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gladiators to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drexciya,
Eurythmics,
The Wake,
Lungfish,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
Can,
The Names,
Minutemen,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Silicon Teens,
Loose Ends,
Black Flag,
Janne Schatter,
Television Personalities,
Stockholm Monsters,
MDC,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
Massinfluence,
Yazoo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Hot Snakes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blues Magoos,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Womack,
Junior Murvin,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Lucky Dragons,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suicide,
Andrew Hill,
The Standells,
Gang of Four,
The Index,
Excepter,
Wasted Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Smiths,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.