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 New Zealand and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Electric Prunes to the jazz 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Motions,
Drexciya,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Josef K,
Shuggie Otis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Associates,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Talk Talk,
The Smiths,
Gong,
The Gladiators,
Chris & Cosey,
Laurel Aitken,
Groovy Waters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q and Not U,
Goldenarms,
Dual Sessions,
Scan 7,
Eric Copeland,
The Selecter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Leaves,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
Flipper,
Silicon Teens,
Radiohead,
Intrusion,
Hardrive,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
Minutemen,
Ohio Players,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Bourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
K-Klass,
Drive Like Jehu,
Smog,
Organ,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Pussy Galore,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.