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 Marshall Islands and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ice-T,
The Gap Band,
FM Einheit,
Newcleus,
Slave,
The Slackers,
Public Image Ltd.,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
Surgeon,
Jeff Lynne,
Hasil Adkins,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
The United States of America,
Monolake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Judy Mowatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
The Gories,
The Walker Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
The J.B.'s,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boredoms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Saints,
Maleditus Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Technova,
Marmalade,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.