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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
The Vogues,
The Golliwogs,
Crash Course in Science,
Surgeon,
The Black Dice,
Reuben Wilson,
Cybotron,
Mad Mike,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sam Rivers,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
the Normal,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
Heaven 17,
The Moleskins,
The Cure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radio Birdman,
These Immortal Souls,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
The Fugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mummies,
The Gun Club,
Aural Exciters,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
The Real Kids,
Eve St. Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
The Names,
Swans,
Siglo XX,
The Count Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
UT,
Skarface,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Procol Harum,
Eurythmics,
Ronan,
Thee Headcoats,
F. McDonald,
New York Dolls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Beau Brummels,
The Birthday Party,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.