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 Malawi and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dead Boys to the funk 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Starr,
U.S. Maple,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
The Associates,
Easy Going,
The Star Department,
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brand Nubian,
Motorama,
Janne Schatter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eden Ahbez,
John Foxx,
Joe Smooth,
Au Pairs,
Inner City,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Nation of Ulysses,
Byron Stingily,
This Heat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DJ Style,
China Crisis,
Donny Hathaway,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Michelle Simonal,
Youth Brigade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
Mo-Dettes,
Tomorrow,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
Visage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bang On A Can,
AZ,
EPMD,
Yellowson,
Barry Ungar,
Alice Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Slick Rick,
Accadde A,
Spandau Ballet,
The Evens,
The Smiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.