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 Kuwait and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 ABBA to the grime 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alice Coltrane,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
The Searchers,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Black Dice,
Jandek,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Archie Shepp,
The Moleskins,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Rundgren,
the Bar-Kays,
Bootsy Collins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faust,
Ohio Players,
Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deakin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barbara Tucker,
Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
The Trojans,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
June Days,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps,
The Velvet Underground,
Echospace,
Sonic Youth,
The Gun Club,
PIL,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hardrive,
The Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
Procol Harum,
This Heat,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.