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 Iraq and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rock 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
The Evens,
Flash Fearless,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Livin' Joy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Offenders,
Qualms,
Neil Young,
The Raincoats,
Oneida,
Amon Düül II,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
H. Thieme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
The Selecter,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
The Velvet Underground,
Gabor Szabo,
Monks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
Brothers Johnson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
Alison Limerick,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
Maurizio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Copeland,
Sarah Menescal,
Simply Red,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Boz Scaggs,
Von Mondo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
Minutemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suburban Knight,
The American Breed,
Frankie Knuckles,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.