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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Normal to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
Mantronix,
Basic Channel,
La Düsseldorf,
Toni Rubio,
The Stooges,
The Moody Blues,
The Raincoats,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kurtis Blow,
Skarface,
Barclay James Harvest,
Glambeats Corp.,
In Retrospect,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drexciya,
The Vogues,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Peter & Gordon,
Harmonia,
Scan 7,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neu!,
cv313,
Malaria!,
Colin Newman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
EPMD,
Blake Baxter,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
Brothers Johnson,
Animal Collective,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Urselle,
Make Up,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonic Youth,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Guru Guru,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.