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 Israel and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Kinks,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grauzone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Glenn Branca,
The Gories,
Los Fastidios,
Faraquet,
John Foxx,
The Associates,
The Monks,
The United States of America,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
Pylon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quantec,
Siglo XX,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Interpol,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Smog,
Althea and Donna,
Intrusion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magma,
Das Ding,
Qualms,
The Beau Brummels,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Toasters,
The Saints,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
This Heat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.