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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Last Poets to the disco 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
kango's stein massive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nas,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amazonics,
Sight & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Icehouse,
ABBA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oblivians,
Quadrant,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
X-102,
The Black Dice,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rakim,
MC5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Guru Guru,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erykah Badu,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy Collins,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
Public Enemy,
Minny Pops,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
E-Dancer,
Bang On A Can,
D'Angelo,
Hardrive,
Alison Limerick,
Al Stewart,
Echospace,
Albert Ayler,
Sister Nancy,
Q and Not U,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Magma,
Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Siglo XX,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.