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 Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Zero Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
CMW,
The New Christs,
The Star Department,
DNA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Little Man,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Joy Division,
Eve St. Jones,
Albert Ayler,
Saccharine Trust,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
U.S. Maple,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Move,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
MC5,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
Lindisfarne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
Q65,
T.S.O.L.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Intrusion,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kurtis Blow,
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
The American Breed,
Cal Tjader,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marvin Gaye,
kango's stein massive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter and Kerry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Skatalites,
Rotary Connection,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.