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 Ecuador and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
Simply Red,
Ohio Players,
Smog,
The Gap Band,
Basic Channel,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Trojans,
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
Nico,
The Moleskins,
Mark Hollis,
PIL,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
CMW,
Can,
John Lydon,
Inner City,
Deepchord,
Crispy Ambulance,
Outsiders,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythm & Sound,
H. Thieme,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Black Dice,
Scan 7,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
The Martian,
Cluster,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zero Boys,
The Gun Club,
The Litter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sam Rivers,
The Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.