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 Antigua and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
X-102,
Anthony Braxton,
Los Fastidios,
The Smiths,
Suburban Knight,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brass Construction,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Q65,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wings,
Guru Guru,
Pole,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Walker Brothers,
The Associates,
Bush Tetras,
Unwound,
Brick,
AZ,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Flamin' Groovies,
a-ha,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
La Düsseldorf,
DJ Sneak,
Mission of Burma,
Crime,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
The Techniques,
The Doors,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Brothers Johnson,
Donny Hathaway,
Goldenarms,
Sandy B,
The Evens,
the Bar-Kays,
Althea and Donna,
Gregory Isaacs,
Average White Band,
Pierre Henry,
The Zeros,
Q and Not U,
Sunsets and Hearts,
E-Dancer,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mojo Men,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.