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 Thailand and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mission of Burma to the punk 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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Bobby Sherman,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
The Gladiators,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ice-T,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
Severed Heads,
Derrick May,
Reuben Wilson,
the Slits,
10cc,
DJ Sneak,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
Junior Murvin,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Amon Düül II,
Spoonie Gee,
Inner City,
Lungfish,
Nico,
Warsaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Zeros,
Janne Schatter,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
Agent Orange,
Television,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
Trumans Water,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
Tommy Roe,
Yazoo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Babytalk,
JFA,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
X-101,
Can,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
the Bar-Kays,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
K-Klass,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.