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 Ivory Coast and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 Marmalade to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Parry Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Carl Craig,
The American Breed,
Kaleidoscope,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cecil Taylor,
Lightning Bolt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
Interpol,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Nils Olav,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mantronix,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
The Gap Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
Deadbeat,
Tres Demented,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
The Associates,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
OOIOO,
Yazoo,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
AZ,
Essential Logic,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Donny Hathaway,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.