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 Swaziland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 The Last Poets to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Inner City,
Yellowson,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
The Standells,
Freddie Wadling,
The Last Poets,
Donald Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Circle Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
Kas Product,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Iggy Pop,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
The Velvet Underground,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Janne Schatter,
Mad Mike,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swell Maps,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mo-Dettes,
Oneida,
Ossler,
X-101,
Sight & Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Underground Resistance,
Faust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
The Pop Group,
Jawbox,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quadrant,
Scion,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
F. McDonald,
Godley & Creme,
New Age Steppers,
The Selecter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.