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 Tanzania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Lightning Bolt to the rap 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Wake,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Siglo XX,
Royal Trux,
Blancmange,
Whodini,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Dennis Brown,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Scion,
KRS-One,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Stooges,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Almond,
Adolescents,
L. Decosne,
The Busters,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Terry,
The Real Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Das Ding,
The Beau Brummels,
Bronski Beat,
Fatback Band,
Altered Images,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Skatalites,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
Junior Murvin,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joensuu 1685,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
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.