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 Honduras and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the punk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Iggy Pop,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crash Course in Science,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Raincoats,
Easy Going,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Starr,
Nik Kershaw,
David Axelrod,
EPMD,
Maleditus Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Index,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Sparks,
Half Japanese,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
Q65,
Michelle Simonal,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Gong,
Symarip,
X-Ray Spex,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
Mars,
John Lydon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Albert Ayler,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Modern Lovers,
Alphaville,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Image Ltd.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.