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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lightning Bolt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Mission of Burma,
Pantaleimon,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
Rakim,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
Byron Stingily,
The Toasters,
Yusef Lateef,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
the Association,
Ossler,
Alice Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
The J.B.'s,
Tommy Roe,
Roxette,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vainqueur,
The Trojans,
Connie Case,
Brass Construction,
Kayak,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Lynne,
Toni Rubio,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terrestrial Tones,
FM Einheit,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
Idris Muhammad,
Ornette Coleman,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Sonics,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blake Baxter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash,
a-ha,
The Gories,
Lakeside,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Fatback Band,
Todd Terry,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.