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 Monaco and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ralphi Rosario to the jazz 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Desert Stars,
Wings,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
The Fuzztones,
Lucky Dragons,
Pussy Galore,
Al Stewart,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers,
The Blackbyrds,
U.S. Maple,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Max Romeo,
Leonard Cohen,
Fat Boys,
MDC,
The Toasters,
Chrome,
The Busters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Davy DMX,
Alison Limerick,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
James White and The Blacks,
Shoche,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Sugar Minott,
Jawbox,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Order,
AZ,
Alphaville,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.