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 Singapore and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
H. Thieme,
Dawn Penn,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Jawbox,
Gong,
The Busters,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
Depeche Mode,
Arab on Radar,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Public Enemy,
Joy Division,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
Can,
Terry Callier,
Lindisfarne,
Ituana,
Buzzcocks,
DNA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Iggy Pop,
Simply Red,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lungfish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Todd Terry,
This Heat,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Skatalites,
Porter Ricks,
Cameo,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.