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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Misunderstood to the grunge 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Velvet Underground,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Index,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Rites of Spring,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crime,
Pussy Galore,
KRS-One,
Cymande,
Guru Guru,
The Searchers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
The Skatalites,
The Doors,
Franke,
Fear,
Stetsasonic,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Juan Atkins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
The Martian,
Pylon,
David Bowie,
Bauhaus,
Bronski Beat,
cv313,
Patti Smith,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
Schoolly D,
Boz Scaggs,
The Pretty Things,
Janne Schatter,
Nils Olav,
The J.B.'s,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alice Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.