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 Botswana and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 The Monks to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
The Standells,
Sandy B,
The Count Five,
Franke,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
U.S. Maple,
Surgeon,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Sarah Menescal,
Kas Product,
Pulsallama,
The Vogues,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed,
Slave,
Ultravox,
Drive Like Jehu,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fuzztones,
The Fugs,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Accadde A,
Joy Division,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oneida,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
Bobby Womack,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
Fluxion,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nils Olav,
Swans,
The Sonics,
The Kinks,
Michelle Simonal,
Unrelated Segments,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.