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 Poland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crime to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Adolescents,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
EPMD,
Alton Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erasure,
Barrington Levy,
Jandek,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tom Boy,
Cameo,
Sex Pistols,
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Clarke,
Pussy Galore,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
D'Angelo,
Pantaleimon,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
Sparks,
R.M.O.,
Intrusion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Don Cherry,
Soul II Soul,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Half Japanese,
Camberwell Now,
Monolake,
Average White Band,
Oblivians,
The Remains,
Marc Almond,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
The Wake,
The Toasters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.