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 Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Make Up to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Guru Guru,
Dead Boys,
LL Cool J,
Iggy Pop,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joensuu 1685,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Television Personalities,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
DNA,
Los Fastidios,
The Dave Clark Five,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Half Japanese,
Derrick Morgan,
Kayak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crash Course in Science,
Tears for Fears,
Schoolly D,
Quadrant,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
Smog,
D'Angelo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Skatalites,
In Retrospect,
Idris Muhammad,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Marmalade,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott Heron,
CMW,
The Mojo Men,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.