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 Turkey and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Gun Club to the techno 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brand Nubian,
The Techniques,
Ornette Coleman,
Sex Pistols,
Young Marble Giants,
Roxy Music,
The Wake,
Sun City Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erasure,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultra Naté,
Black Flag,
Crispian St. Peters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Absolute Body Control,
Mark Hollis,
Iggy Pop,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
AZ,
Kas Product,
Cymande,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
Little Man,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
Youth Brigade,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
Sandy B,
Terry Callier,
The Fall,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flash Fearless,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fat Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Fraelich,
Liliput,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fortunes,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
The Durutti Column,
The Modern Lovers,
Au Pairs,
Donald Byrd,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.