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 Rwanda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 John Lydon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
KRS-One,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
AZ,
Mark Hollis,
Blancmange,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Black Dice,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
Essential Logic,
Shoche,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monochrome Set,
The Kinks,
MDC,
Average White Band,
Roxy Music,
Boogie Down Productions,
Easy Going,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
The Buckinghams,
Supertramp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wolf Eyes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Das Ding,
Unrelated Segments,
Excepter,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
Maurizio,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Moon,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.