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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the rap 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman,
The Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slits,
The Fuzztones,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
Easy Going,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal,
Ornette Coleman,
the Fania All-Stars,
CMW,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Gang Green,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Maurizio,
Grey Daturas,
Negative Approach,
Flash Fearless,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
Cymande,
Ice-T,
David Bowie,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kurtis Blow,
Magma,
The Selecter,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eddi Front,
Warsaw,
The Names,
The Index,
Average White Band,
Pussy Galore,
Bluetip,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Star Department,
Ken Boothe,
Model 500,
Letta Mbulu,
The Techniques,
Slick Rick,
Funkadelic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.