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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
Dennis Brown,
Tom Boy,
Main Source,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris Corsano,
Drexciya,
Angry Samoans,
MDC,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
Nas,
The Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Ossler,
Aswad,
Marmalade,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
OOIOO,
The Barracudas,
The Red Krayola,
John Cale,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blancmange,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Mandrill,
Little Man,
Ronan,
Sam Rivers,
Dawn Penn,
The Vogues,
Supertramp,
Cybotron,
Motorama,
Dual Sessions,
Simply Red,
Minny Pops,
The Stooges,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
Qualms,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy,
Leonard Cohen,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Bar-Kays,
Joy Division,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.