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 Congo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fugs,
Sonic Youth,
Icehouse,
The Smiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
The Last Poets,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Yaz,
Kerri Chandler,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
The Real Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
the Normal,
Piero Umiliani,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
Sarah Menescal,
Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Suicide,
China Crisis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Underground Resistance,
Jandek,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
New Age Steppers,
Henry Cow,
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick May,
Joy Division,
The Doobie Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Lungfish,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Victims,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Lightning Bolt,
Stetsasonic,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.