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 Mali and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Scrapy to the funk 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Terry,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Bang On A Can,
Clear Light,
Andrew Hill,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scan 7,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Intrusion,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
kango's stein massive,
Dave Gahan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
Niagra,
Lakeside,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mo-Dettes,
Radio Birdman,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-102,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gabor Szabo,
Toni Rubio,
Aloha Tigers,
A Certain Ratio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scratch Acid,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.