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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Don Cherry,
Black Sheep,
Interpol,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Gregory Isaacs,
Liliput,
cv313,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Modern Lovers,
Howard Jones,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
The Litter,
Leonard Cohen,
Soulsonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Severed Heads,
U.S. Maple,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Holt,
The Leaves,
David Bowie,
Make Up,
Niagra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tears for Fears,
the Swans,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Von Mondo,
Isaac Hayes,
the Germs,
A Certain Ratio,
Crooked Eye,
Unrelated Segments,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Gong,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
KRS-One,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.