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 Congo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
The Monks,
Swans,
The Saints,
K-Klass,
Cal Tjader,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lungfish,
Stereo Dub,
the Swans,
Desert Stars,
Joy Division,
Carl Craig,
Eli Mardock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Teasers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joey Negro,
The Happenings,
Rekid,
KRS-One,
Scion,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
Rapeman,
Jacob Miller,
Glambeats Corp.,
Patti Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül II,
The J.B.'s,
Gang of Four,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxy Music,
T. Rex,
Sparks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Josef K,
Heaven 17,
Section 25,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.