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 Marshall Islands and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Brass Construction to the funk 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dead C,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Litter,
The Five Americans,
Davy DMX,
Scion,
Iggy Pop,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monks,
Talk Talk,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cowsills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Urselle,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
The Neon Judgement,
The Angels of Light,
Joey Negro,
Lou Christie,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glenn Branca,
Loose Ends,
X-102,
Camberwell Now,
Derrick May,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Certain Ratio,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül,
Funky Four + One,
Faust,
The Fugs,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
Pylon,
Shuggie Otis,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Moody Blues,
Von Mondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
The Tremeloes,
Hot Snakes,
Sparks,
The Happenings,
Monolake,
Pulsallama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.