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 Bolivia and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ten City to the grunge 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neil Young,
Barrington Levy,
Inner City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Red Krayola,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Toni Rubio,
The Offenders,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
Minor Threat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Toasters,
KRS-One,
Severed Heads,
the Association,
X-Ray Spex,
The Seeds,
Darondo,
Infiniti,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
Stetsasonic,
Hashim,
Andrew Hill,
the Swans,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
In Retrospect,
Supertramp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q and Not U,
The Evens,
The Cowsills,
The Cure,
The Gap Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yusef Lateef,
OOIOO,
Soul Sonic Force,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skriet,
Skaos,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
Bang On A Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.