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 the UAE and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cramps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Alton Ellis,
Radiohead,
Charles Mingus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marine Girls,
Ponytail,
Quadrant,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Byron Stingily,
Mandrill,
X-101,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun City Girls,
Flipper,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
MDC,
Bluetip,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultimate Spinach,
JFA,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
X-102,
Man Parrish,
Nils Olav,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
The Last Poets,
Sight & Sound,
The Fall,
The American Breed,
the Bar-Kays,
The Trojans,
Franke,
Ituana,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Organ,
Cymande,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gun Club,
Sam Rivers,
The Real Kids,
Ossler,
The Electric Prunes,
Aural Exciters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Kinks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.