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 Guatemala and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Sun Ra to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Make Up,
Slick Rick,
Donald Byrd,
Swans,
New York Dolls,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
Alton Ellis,
Quando Quango,
The Modern Lovers,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Axelrod,
Surgeon,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Starr,
The Knickerbockers,
Maleditus Sound,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Blues Magoos,
CMW,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Five Americans,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
Unwound,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxette,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Amon Düül,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
ABBA,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.