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 Albania and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 John Holt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
Pagans,
The Monks,
Hot Snakes,
The Neon Judgement,
Panda Bear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cure,
Nick Fraelich,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thee Headcoats,
Sam Rivers,
Rekid,
Quadrant,
Soul II Soul,
These Immortal Souls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Can,
The Fugs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
MC5,
Tommy Roe,
Sixth Finger,
The Offenders,
Oblivians,
Altered Images,
KRS-One,
Wolf Eyes,
China Crisis,
Cymande,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
The Gap Band,
Funky Four + One,
Lindisfarne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ohio Players,
Eric Copeland,
June of 44,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alphaville,
Spoonie Gee,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
The Moleskins,
the Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Pole,
Unwound,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.