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 Iceland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Glambeats Corp. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Cluster,
Das Ding,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Lower 48,
The Moleskins,
KRS-One,
the Germs,
Wings,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eurythmics,
The Fugs,
Cal Tjader,
Slave,
China Crisis,
Soul II Soul,
Dark Day,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Angels of Light,
Hashim,
Joey Negro,
Skriet,
Danielle Patucci,
Stetsasonic,
The Toasters,
Robert Hood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blossom Toes,
The Fortunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Stooges,
Bush Tetras,
Los Fastidios,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronan,
Harry Pussy,
Warren Ellis,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.