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 Tunisia and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Black Pus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sparks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
JFA,
Symarip,
Stereo Dub,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eve St. Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joyce Sims,
Rekid,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry's Kids,
Fugazi,
The Fuzztones,
Quantec,
Joey Negro,
Flash Fearless,
Inner City,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gap Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Don Cherry,
The Saints,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Anakelly,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Motions,
the Normal,
Roger Hodgson,
Make Up,
Harry Pussy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Moebius,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Coltrane,
T. Rex,
Second Layer,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
The New Christs,
Barry Ungar,
Soft Machine,
Little Man,
E-Dancer,
Scan 7,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.