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 Peru and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kas Product to the grunge 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Slackers,
Lee Hazlewood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Last Poets,
Charles Mingus,
Metal Thangz,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shoche,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Talk Talk,
Glenn Branca,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
OOIOO,
Sparks,
The Sonics,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
Slave,
The Barracudas,
Slick Rick,
Ponytail,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Khruangbin,
Q65,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Wolf Eyes,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
The Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Hill,
Groovy Waters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Carl Craig,
Susan Cadogan,
The Victims,
June of 44,
Thee Headcoats,
the Swans,
Zero Boys,
U.S. Maple,
CMW,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Clarke,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.