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 Solomon Islands and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Prince Buster to the crunk 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Patti Smith,
The Barracudas,
Yazoo,
Henry Cow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Toasters,
DNA,
The Dead C,
The Move,
Alison Limerick,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
KRS-One,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Lower 48,
Surgeon,
The Selecter,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerrie Biddell,
JFA,
The Names,
Trumans Water,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Babytalk,
Vainqueur,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Subhumans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gories,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Stooges,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Happenings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gun Club,
The Zeros,
Kayak,
Yaz,
Gang Starr,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
Marine Girls,
Brick,
Tres Demented,
Simply Red,
The Durutti Column,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Metal Thangz,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.