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 Tunisia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Johnny Osbourne to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Womack,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
Surgeon,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Shoche,
Spoonie Gee,
Pere Ubu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suburban Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Busters,
The Fall,
Pulsallama,
Agent Orange,
The Count Five,
Al Stewart,
Echospace,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
F. McDonald,
Excepter,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
The Index,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
Aural Exciters,
Guru Guru,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
The United States of America,
Albert Ayler,
Thee Headcoats,
Animal Collective,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.