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 St Lucia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New Age Steppers,
Minny Pops,
Radio Birdman,
This Heat,
the Human League,
Sister Nancy,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Reed,
UT,
The Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Banda Bassotti,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
In Retrospect,
Agitation Free,
Camouflage,
Porter Ricks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
JFA,
Crooked Eye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arthur Verocai,
Mark Hollis,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
Talk Talk,
Oneida,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dark Day,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cymande,
Davy DMX,
Bronski Beat,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Rekid,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Liliput,
Flash Fearless,
The Victims,
Nico,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.