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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Gap Band to the techno 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Animal Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tres Demented,
Y Pants,
FM Einheit,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Urselle,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
The Pop Group,
Scratch Acid,
Pierre Henry,
Absolute Body Control,
Nirvana,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
Skaos,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Nas,
Intrusion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oblivians,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wolf Eyes,
Youth Brigade,
Quando Quango,
The Real Kids,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
Funky Four + One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Young Rascals,
Bush Tetras,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
Ornette Coleman,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Bob Dylan,
Barrington Levy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Babytalk,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.