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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Young Rascals to the techno 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sound,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Interpol,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Trumans Water,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultravox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Count Five,
Magazine,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Pantaleimon,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Womack,
JFA,
The Fall,
Niagra,
Gang Green,
Soul II Soul,
Spandau Ballet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
The Wake,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Foxx,
Marvin Gaye,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Slits,
Adolescents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.