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 South Sudan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Angels of Light to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Swans,
Trumans Water,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Misunderstood,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Todd Rundgren,
Lungfish,
Alice Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bronski Beat,
Piero Umiliani,
Funkadelic,
Arthur Verocai,
Desert Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Walker Brothers,
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Malaria!,
Whodini,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David Axelrod,
EPMD,
The Moleskins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
Lyres,
Gang of Four,
Dennis Brown,
Tommy Roe,
Cymande,
Minnie Riperton,
KRS-One,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Schoolly D,
Niagra,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quando Quango,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool Moe Dee,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joe Finger,
Depeche Mode,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camberwell Now,
Aaron Thompson,
Swell Maps,
Sugar Minott,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.