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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the electroclash 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Stereo Dub,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
E-Dancer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantaleimon,
Jawbox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Main Source,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Wire,
Pole,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zapp,
Fluxion,
Arcadia,
a-ha,
Reuben Wilson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
X-102,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cybotron,
DJ Sneak,
Pylon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Qualms,
Joyce Sims,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy Collins,
Inner City,
Little Man,
Kurtis Blow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Toasters,
The Five Americans,
Index,
Mark Hollis,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
Vladislav Delay,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.