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 Hungary and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Eli Mardock to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Ornette Coleman,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Human League,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantytec,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang of Four,
a-ha,
MDC,
Fifty Foot Hose,
KRS-One,
Soul II Soul,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Litter,
Radiohead,
The Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Archie Shepp,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camouflage,
Popol Vuh,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Womack,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fatback Band,
Bronski Beat,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Order,
DJ Style,
The Last Poets,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
Sex Pistols,
Lalann,
Glenn Branca,
The Move,
10cc,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Arcadia,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.