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 Madagascar and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Henry Cow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camouflage,
Neu!,
Oblivians,
Dead Boys,
D'Angelo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Con Funk Shun,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rosa Yemen,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
Au Pairs,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
Echospace,
Kas Product,
Whodini,
Ultra Naté,
Ponytail,
Adolescents,
Stockholm Monsters,
Agent Orange,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
KRS-One,
B.T. Express,
The Martian,
Lou Christie,
Jimmy McGriff,
Traffic Nightmare,
The American Breed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Fela Kuti,
OOIOO,
Max Romeo,
Funky Four + One,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lower 48,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
Black Sheep,
Morten Harket,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
New York Dolls,
China Crisis,
The Happenings,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.