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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Larry & the Blue Notes 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Velvet Underground,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Chris Corsano,
Electric Light Orchestra,
KRS-One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Sonics,
Scrapy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
The Blackbyrds,
Al Stewart,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fortunes,
Magma,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amazonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Fela Kuti,
48th St. Collective,
Harry Pussy,
Mark Hollis,
EPMD,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brothers Johnson,
Bizarre Inc.,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Sugar Minott,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ken Boothe,
The Five Americans,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Hill,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
AZ,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marc Almond,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.