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 Finland and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Black Pus to the crunk 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
The Kinks,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Names,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
These Immortal Souls,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
Bang On A Can,
kango's stein massive,
KRS-One,
Public Enemy,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
Joey Negro,
Siglo XX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bluetip,
Lyres,
Goldenarms,
Juan Atkins,
Moebius,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Steve Hackett,
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ludus,
Joensuu 1685,
June Days,
Bronski Beat,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Vladislav Delay,
Monolake,
Cymande,
Index,
Susan Cadogan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Clarke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
Q and Not U,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.