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 Nigeria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nation of Ulysses to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Dorothy Ashby,
June of 44,
Sonic Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Letta Mbulu,
Pagans,
Brick,
Surgeon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Nico,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Bourne,
Scratch Acid,
The Names,
The Offenders,
Altered Images,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Lydon,
Stiv Bators,
Nick Fraelich,
Tim Buckley,
The New Christs,
Blancmange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Easy Going,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
Reagan Youth,
David Axelrod,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ten City,
Isaac Hayes,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
Slick Rick,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
The Golliwogs,
Rotary Connection,
Can,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Enemy,
The Last Poets,
PIL,
Guru Guru,
Black Sheep,
The Monks,
Desert Stars,
Gang Green,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.