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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Camouflage to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roxette,
Roger Hodgson,
Rekid,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Clarke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Teasers,
Tim Buckley,
John Lydon,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Laurel Aitken,
OOIOO,
Fad Gadget,
Eurythmics,
Oneida,
Slick Rick,
Scan 7,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skriet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Average White Band,
Nils Olav,
Bob Dylan,
Groovy Waters,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Subhumans,
Max Romeo,
The Leaves,
Organ,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Count Five,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
The Evens,
Eric Copeland,
Skarface,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.