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 Colombia and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare 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 Radio Birdman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Bauhaus,
Radio Birdman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rekid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pylon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sonics,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young,
Chris & Cosey,
Fugazi,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
The Modern Lovers,
Hasil Adkins,
Sister Nancy,
Lalann,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gun Club,
Kurtis Blow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Hood,
Maleditus Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
Ponytail,
Nico,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Sneak,
Joyce Sims,
Minny Pops,
Skarface,
Japan,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
Grauzone,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Donald Byrd,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.