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 Suriname and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Ronnie Foster,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Schoolly D,
Q65,
MDC,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Kevin Saunderson,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
The Raincoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pole,
Radiohead,
Gong,
cv313,
Lindisfarne,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
The Victims,
The Barracudas,
Clear Light,
Minutemen,
Aswad,
Harry Pussy,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
Glenn Branca,
Drive Like Jehu,
The J.B.'s,
Byron Stingily,
New York Dolls,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
DJ Style,
Josef K,
Aaron Thompson,
Mantronix,
Desert Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Piero Umiliani,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen,
X-102,
Shuggie Otis,
the Swans,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.