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 Kenya and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Nile Rodgers 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the punk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Fatback Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Easy Going,
X-102,
Wings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jandek,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brass Construction,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
DNA,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unwound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
Gang Starr,
The Slackers,
The Techniques,
Sun Ra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Television Personalities,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
Public Enemy,
Royal Trux,
Neu!,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
The Pop Group,
The Invisible,
Schoolly D,
X-Ray Spex,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Near,
Wire,
Tubeway Army,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Los Fastidios,
The Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter and Kerry,
Organ,
Vainqueur,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Searchers,
UT,
Jeff Lynne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.