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 Ecuador and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 CMW to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
U.S. Maple,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warren Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Loose Ends,
the Association,
The Sound,
The Red Krayola,
the Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doors,
The Cramps,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pet Shop Boys,
Agent Orange,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Foxx,
Susan Cadogan,
Cal Tjader,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kas Product,
This Heat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rakim,
MC5,
The New Christs,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Boredoms,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Maleditus Sound,
Essential Logic,
The Zeros,
David McCallum,
The Vogues,
Hashim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.