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 El Salvador and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 B.T. Express to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Fela Kuti,
The Monks,
Rod Modell,
JFA,
Rufus Thomas,
Guru Guru,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Simply Red,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Wells,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Seeds,
Judy Mowatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joensuu 1685,
cv313,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Spoonie Gee,
Unwound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Flash Fearless,
China Crisis,
K-Klass,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cameo,
Hardrive,
Lakeside,
Mad Mike,
Inner City,
Crime,
T.S.O.L.,
Derrick Morgan,
The Raincoats,
New Order,
Fad Gadget,
Dennis Brown,
Crash Course in Science,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brick,
Neu!,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fugs,
Royal Trux,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.