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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gladiators to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
The Evens,
Boz Scaggs,
Lightning Bolt,
New York Dolls,
Von Mondo,
New Order,
Charles Mingus,
Adolescents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Reuben Wilson,
Dennis Brown,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eden Ahbez,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultravox,
Skaos,
Roxy Music,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television Personalities,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Busters,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scientists,
Fad Gadget,
E-Dancer,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
Roger Hodgson,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeru the Damaja,
Popol Vuh,
Urselle,
Japan,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Smooth,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.