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 Belize and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
June Days,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
James White and The Blacks,
Von Mondo,
Minny Pops,
Davy DMX,
The Velvet Underground,
Royal Trux,
Smog,
The Names,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Style,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
JFA,
Bang On A Can,
PIL,
Drexciya,
Electric Light Orchestra,
AZ,
Agitation Free,
The Misunderstood,
Rites of Spring,
Bad Manners,
Donny Hathaway,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Near,
the Swans,
Simply Red,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cluster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Donald Byrd,
Warsaw,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
The Seeds,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Leonard Cohen,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Clarke,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pop Group,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.