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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 X-101 to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smiths,
The Moleskins,
Y Pants,
Organ,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Eli Mardock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Spoonie Gee,
Quantec,
Piero Umiliani,
Rekid,
Joensuu 1685,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Eden Ahbez,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
Bang On A Can,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
China Crisis,
Severed Heads,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
The Victims,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Ronan,
The Fuzztones,
B.T. Express,
The Moody Blues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Young Marble Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mandrill,
The Remains,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Wake,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Lynne,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.