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 Samoa and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Modern Lovers to the grime 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Aaron Thompson,
Inner City,
Funkadelic,
UT,
Tomorrow,
Eden Ahbez,
Ten City,
Hashim,
Moby Grape,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
Harpers Bizarre,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Con Funk Shun,
Darondo,
Infiniti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barry Ungar,
Outsiders,
Sandy B,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Index,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Jimmy McGriff,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Joy Division,
Brick,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Almond,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Gabor Szabo,
Matthew Bourne,
Saccharine Trust,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arthur Verocai,
10cc,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Association,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soulsonic Force,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lyres,
48th St. Collective,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.