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 Iraq and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brick to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Letta Mbulu,
Cluster,
Brick,
Junior Murvin,
Swans,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Trojans,
Essential Logic,
The Happenings,
Bauhaus,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Derrick May,
Godley & Creme,
Byron Stingily,
Con Funk Shun,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Dennis Brown,
Rapeman,
Deadbeat,
Delta 5,
JFA,
Wolf Eyes,
Sarah Menescal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Khruangbin,
Los Fastidios,
The Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
Cheater Slicks,
Amazonics,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Parrish,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Almond,
The Count Five,
June of 44,
Intrusion,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Isaac Hayes,
ABC,
Can,
MDC,
Drexciya,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.