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 Libya and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the crunk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Selecter,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
Amon Düül,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Toasters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tommy Roe,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Franke,
Ice-T,
MDC,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The New Christs,
Wolf Eyes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minor Threat,
Negative Approach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
Brand Nubian,
Q65,
Dual Sessions,
K-Klass,
Babytalk,
Wire,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yazoo,
Slick Rick,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
Essential Logic,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
Reuben Wilson,
JFA,
Ponytail,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Nirvana,
Jawbox,
Stiv Bators,
Shuggie Otis,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.