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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Halsall,
48th St. Collective,
Mars,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
Model 500,
Banda Bassotti,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
Kaleidoscope,
Gastr Del Sol,
DJ Style,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Star Department,
Bobby Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Christie,
Public Enemy,
Lungfish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gun Club,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
The Saints,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick May,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deakin,
Severed Heads,
The Remains,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Smooth,
The Stooges,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Guru Guru,
The Blues Magoos,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Al Stewart,
Cheater Slicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Ituana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smiths,
Smog,
The Toasters,
Neil Young,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.