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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brand Nubian to the punk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pop Group,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Al Stewart,
The Doobie Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Fat Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
Byron Stingily,
Lakeside,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Invisible,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The New Christs,
Tim Buckley,
Lower 48,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
KRS-One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
Slave,
The Seeds,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jesper Dahlback,
EPMD,
The Names,
Organ,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moody Blues,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
Radiohead,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Litter,
Joensuu 1685,
Technova,
The Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smoke,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.