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 Angola and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Public Enemy to the dance 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Crime,
The Names,
Symarip,
Harry Pussy,
H. Thieme,
Hashim,
Faust,
Nico,
Ossler,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gun Club,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
Pere Ubu,
The Residents,
Pierre Henry,
Tim Buckley,
Yellowson,
Inner City,
Joy Division,
Wasted Youth,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Pylon,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skarface,
Deadbeat,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Delta 5,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Shoche,
Schoolly D,
Todd Rundgren,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mojo Men,
Desert Stars,
Barrington Levy,
Max Romeo,
The Shadows of Knight,
EPMD,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispy Ambulance,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.