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 Paraguay and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Slackers to the jazz 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Eurythmics,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Franke,
Arcadia,
The Selecter,
48th St. Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
Sam Rivers,
Alice Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
Alton Ellis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
The Pretty Things,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter and Kerry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chris Corsano,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lakeside,
PIL,
Moby Grape,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
Aural Exciters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Magazine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Bourne,
The Doors,
Ossler,
The Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Television Personalities,
Crime,
Reuben Wilson,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra,
B.T. Express,
The Knickerbockers,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.