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 Solomon Islands and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Severed Heads 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
Dark Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dirtbombs,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Brick,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
The Sound,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Zapp,
The Mojo Men,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Bourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Buzzcocks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suicide,
AZ,
Rod Modell,
Electric Prunes,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rotary Connection,
Supertramp,
Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy,
The Residents,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gong,
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
R.M.O.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
L. Decosne,
Graham Central Station,
Crash Course in Science,
Banda Bassotti,
John Lydon,
Babytalk,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.