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 Mongolia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Index,
Soul II Soul,
Godley & Creme,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Parrish,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
The Toasters,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
X-102,
The Angels of Light,
Cal Tjader,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Lindisfarne,
The Wake,
A Certain Ratio,
Monks,
Max Romeo,
Deepchord,
Con Funk Shun,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
Maleditus Sound,
Skriet,
Harry Pussy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Alton Ellis,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
Howard Jones,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scientists,
Davy DMX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Silicon Teens,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
John Lydon,
The Buckinghams,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mantronix,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sound,
Deakin,
Donny Hathaway,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.