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 Yemen and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ludus,
A Certain Ratio,
Easy Going,
This Heat,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boz Scaggs,
Oblivians,
Crispy Ambulance,
Frankie Knuckles,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
New Age Steppers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
Mr. Review,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dirtbombs,
Yellowson,
Young Marble Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Bourne,
Robert Wyatt,
48th St. Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
L. Decosne,
Wasted Youth,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
Grauzone,
K-Klass,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Byrd,
Eurythmics,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
Soul II Soul,
Maleditus Sound,
Wings,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols,
Pylon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk,
The Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Slave,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.