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 Syria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Detroit Cobras to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Kas Product,
The Busters,
The Moleskins,
Jerry's Kids,
Grauzone,
Sun City Girls,
Adolescents,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Thompson Twins,
Interpol,
Harmonia,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
The Stooges,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Gang Starr,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Fania All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul II Soul,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cymande,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Cameo,
The Doors,
kango's stein massive,
Surgeon,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fire Engines,
Metal Thangz,
Grey Daturas,
Sound Behaviour,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
This Heat,
Roxy Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
Unrelated Segments,
The Selecter,
Q and Not U,
Graham Central Station,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.