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 Tuvalu and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smoke,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Livin' Joy,
Pylon,
Arcadia,
The Skatalites,
Magma,
Nils Olav,
Monolake,
The Cowsills,
D'Angelo,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
KRS-One,
The Wake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Starr,
The Standells,
48th St. Collective,
Barry Ungar,
Black Pus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suicide,
Dennis Brown,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sarah Menescal,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scion,
Japan,
Freddie Wadling,
Swell Maps,
Theoretical Girls,
Erasure,
The Index,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fear,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.