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 Japan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hasil Adkins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
The United States of America,
Organ,
the Slits,
DJ Style,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid,
Byron Stingily,
Au Pairs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Massinfluence,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Inner City,
Country Teasers,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
China Crisis,
The Stooges,
AZ,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Henry Cow,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Oneida,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blues Magoos,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Los Fastidios,
Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
cv313,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fugazi,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Music Machine,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonny Sharrock,
R.M.O.,
Eric Dolphy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glenn Branca,
Michelle Simonal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronnie Foster,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.