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 Bangladesh and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Theoretical Girls to the rap 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Young Marble Giants,
John Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
Aaron Thompson,
Minor Threat,
Franke,
Ronan,
The Cowsills,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Dolphy,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
Moss Icon,
The Gap Band,
Nirvana,
Harry Pussy,
Warsaw,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
Eli Mardock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
D'Angelo,
Derrick Morgan,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
Shuggie Otis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Depeche Mode,
Roxy Music,
Wasted Youth,
John Lydon,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
The Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Osbourne,
Y Pants,
Fad Gadget,
Absolute Body Control,
Judy Mowatt,
Rites of Spring,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Axelrod,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
The Dirtbombs,
The Move,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.