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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Grey Daturas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Christie,
Sight & Sound,
Black Sheep,
Aswad,
The Grass Roots,
Massinfluence,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
John Foxx,
Anakelly,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Eli Mardock,
Joy Division,
10cc,
Pierre Henry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Fad Gadget,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
The Velvet Underground,
Connie Case,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
Buzzcocks,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Sandy B,
Boz Scaggs,
Ten City,
Sarah Menescal,
Section 25,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Searchers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Malaria!,
The Sonics,
Jacob Miller,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.