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 Cape Verde and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Arcadia to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Delta 5,
Lightning Bolt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Inner City,
Radio Birdman,
Colin Newman,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy Collins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
Das Ding,
The Move,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Connie Case,
Yaz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eli Mardock,
Ronnie Foster,
Lyres,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
A Certain Ratio,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Lungfish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Birthday Party,
The American Breed,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
Metal Thangz,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
The Slits,
Accadde A,
The Pop Group,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.