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 Sudan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Germs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Visage,
Deadbeat,
The Evens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Public Image Ltd.,
Babytalk,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bauhaus,
Das Ding,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Bluetip,
Agent Orange,
Prince Buster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lightning Bolt,
John Holt,
Y Pants,
Chris Corsano,
Pussy Galore,
Minutemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sandy B,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
R.M.O.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
PIL,
A Certain Ratio,
Lalann,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pere Ubu,
John Cale,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris & Cosey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
Dead Boys,
John Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Whodini,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonic Youth,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.