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 Tunisia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ronan to the grime 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Severed Heads,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
Sixth Finger,
Charles Mingus,
Howard Jones,
The Pretty Things,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Nas,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
Robert Hood,
Nik Kershaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Fraelich,
Zero Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
Drexciya,
Arcadia,
Lucky Dragons,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
Minutemen,
Derrick May,
Scientists,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
Radio Birdman,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Jeru the Damaja,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Underground Resistance,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
Schoolly D,
Technova,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Marvin Gaye,
cv313,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.