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 France and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Carl Craig,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swans,
Amon Düül II,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
the Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Neil Young,
Drexciya,
Donald Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
KRS-One,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
Schoolly D,
Supertramp,
Harmonia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Suicide,
Khruangbin,
Kas Product,
Grauzone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Patti Smith,
World's Most,
The Velvet Underground,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Robert Wyatt,
The Neon Judgement,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
K-Klass,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Hood,
John Cale,
Lindisfarne,
F. McDonald,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang On A Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols,
Black Bananas,
Rosa Yemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Grass Roots,
Chrome,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.