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 Jordan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Rakim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The American Breed,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Spoonie Gee,
Crooked Eye,
Aural Exciters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Human League,
Bad Manners,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stiv Bators,
Isaac Hayes,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Raincoats,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Boogie Down Productions,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Patti Smith,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
T. Rex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Invisible,
New Age Steppers,
Slave,
The Pop Group,
Von Mondo,
Inner City,
Reagan Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
X-Ray Spex,
Aswad,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
Robert Hood,
Prince Buster,
Barbara Tucker,
Excepter,
Camouflage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Techniques,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.