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 Cambodia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
The Stooges,
The Velvet Underground,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
Camouflage,
Young Marble Giants,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
Patti Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
Aural Exciters,
Tres Demented,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
Pere Ubu,
Slave,
LL Cool J,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Massinfluence,
Easy Going,
Mr. Review,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sister Nancy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Josef K,
Sixth Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aloha Tigers,
Moebius,
John Holt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
R.M.O.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Schoolly D,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Donald Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Main Source,
These Immortal Souls,
The Knickerbockers,
Erykah Badu,
Throbbing Gristle,
June Days,
Quantec,
X-102,
JFA,
Idris Muhammad,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.