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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator 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 Minutemen to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brothers Johnson,
Vladislav Delay,
Eddi Front,
Zapp,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stiv Bators,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
The Gories,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
Sparks,
Wire,
Popol Vuh,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
Unrelated Segments,
Ice-T,
DNA,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marvin Gaye,
Quadrant,
Jeru the Damaja,
Archie Shepp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moleskins,
Alison Limerick,
Lower 48,
Bush Tetras,
The Busters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rapeman,
Pantaleimon,
Public Enemy,
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liliput,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
Drexciya,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.