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 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 Selecter to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Hot Snakes,
D'Angelo,
Robert Wyatt,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Order,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Shoche,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
The Slackers,
The Sound,
Mad Mike,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Essential Logic,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gun Club,
The Leaves,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Marmalade,
Severed Heads,
Nico,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Guru Guru,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris Corsano,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-102,
H. Thieme,
The Selecter,
Joe Finger,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ronan,
MDC,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
JFA,
Grauzone,
Lungfish,
Skriet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
OOIOO,
The Blues Magoos,
The Knickerbockers,
Moebius,
Ten City,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.