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 Suriname and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
The Dirtbombs,
Pere Ubu,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wasted Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül,
R.M.O.,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Terry,
The New Christs,
The Techniques,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thompson Twins,
Nirvana,
Althea and Donna,
The Offenders,
Matthew Halsall,
Metal Thangz,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
B.T. Express,
the Fania All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Half Japanese,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiohead,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
The Leaves,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Martian,
Fela Kuti,
The Fortunes,
Section 25,
Average White Band,
Lakeside,
Marc Almond,
The Cure,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
Maleditus Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
CMW,
Bizarre Inc.,
UT,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ornette Coleman,
E-Dancer,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
This Heat,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.