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 Ivory Coast and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Slave to the electroclash 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Siglo XX,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minutemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Albert Ayler,
Radiohead,
Idris Muhammad,
Fatback Band,
Maurizio,
Silicon Teens,
Erykah Badu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Funkadelic,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Tears for Fears,
Joensuu 1685,
The Birthday Party,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Todd Terry,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
Television,
Byron Stingily,
Fugazi,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dead C,
Marmalade,
Camouflage,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Barrington Levy,
Deakin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Darondo,
Sister Nancy,
Thompson Twins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Saccharine Trust,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barclay James Harvest,
PIL,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.