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 Solomon Islands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Birthday Party 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Bauhaus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bad Manners,
Banda Bassotti,
Sugar Minott,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Prunes,
B.T. Express,
The Blues Magoos,
Rakim,
Khruangbin,
The Searchers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Surgeon,
Bluetip,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Young Rascals,
Connie Case,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
The Velvet Underground,
Symarip,
Glenn Branca,
The United States of America,
Youth Brigade,
Organ,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Ohio Players,
Hashim,
10cc,
Model 500,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
Babytalk,
Shoche,
Mo-Dettes,
Dead Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
The Litter,
MC5,
Guru Guru,
Kas Product,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.