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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
Hashim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fela Kuti,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Wake,
Wire,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Funkadelic,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
the Bar-Kays,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Lynne,
Siglo XX,
Negative Approach,
The Move,
The Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Von Mondo,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ituana,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Soul II Soul,
Young Marble Giants,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
Yellowson,
F. McDonald,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
Underground Resistance,
Drive Like Jehu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Last Poets,
Mad Mike,
John Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.