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 Senegal and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Das Ding to the grunge 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh 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?
The J.B.'s,
Tres Demented,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dead C,
Heaven 17,
Janne Schatter,
MC5,
Pulsallama,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Delta 5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dual Sessions,
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABC,
Black Bananas,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
The Modern Lovers,
Au Pairs,
The Doobie Brothers,
FM Einheit,
Howard Jones,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-101,
Outsiders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oneida,
Interpol,
Scion,
Matthew Bourne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scott Walker,
Television Personalities,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
Basic Channel,
Franke,
Grauzone,
Bobby Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Erasure,
La Düsseldorf,
Traffic Nightmare,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.