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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
ABC,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
David Bowie,
Can,
These Immortal Souls,
The Walker Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ohio Players,
The Golliwogs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
kango's stein massive,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Das Ding,
Pierre Henry,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
Cecil Taylor,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Moon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
The Smoke,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Unwound,
Donald Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sällskapet,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Audionom,
Matthew Halsall,
Sandy B,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Selecter,
Anakelly,
8 Eyed Spy,
AZ,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.