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 Maldives and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
The Red Krayola,
The Offenders,
Intrusion,
The Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Donald Byrd,
The Kinks,
Lucky Dragons,
Camouflage,
Ohio Players,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Whodini,
Pussy Galore,
The Zeros,
Susan Cadogan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Erykah Badu,
Mad Mike,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Dead Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deakin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Young Rascals,
The Toasters,
Brass Construction,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Sneak,
World's Most,
Angry Samoans,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Outsiders,
The Modern Lovers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
Bluetip,
Arab on Radar,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Evens,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Flag,
The Happenings,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
Panda Bear,
The Count Five,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Skaos,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.