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 Cambodia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Section 25 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
L. Decosne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeff Lynne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
The Walker Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Michelle Simonal,
Ponytail,
Yazoo,
Heaven 17,
Lightning Bolt,
Little Man,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Associates,
Dawn Penn,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-102,
Morten Harket,
Sparks,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
cv313,
Eric B and Rakim,
Japan,
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Drexciya,
Black Flag,
Skarface,
Hot Snakes,
kango's stein massive,
Stereo Dub,
Darondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Juan Atkins,
EPMD,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.