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 Seychelles and from Salvador.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Talk Talk to the electroclash 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Mars,
The Gladiators,
Idris Muhammad,
Jandek,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
T. Rex,
Harmonia,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
Qualms,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pulsallama,
Terry Callier,
Warsaw,
Fat Boys,
Fatback Band,
Can,
Minutemen,
The Stooges,
Fear,
Malaria!,
Joey Negro,
Cymande,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Iggy Pop,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
The New Christs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Trumans Water,
Supertramp,
Rotary Connection,
Depeche Mode,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
Loose Ends,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
cv313,
The Names,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radio Birdman,
the Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.