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 St Lucia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David McCallum to the jazz 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faraquet,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Con Funk Shun,
Cymande,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
AZ,
Laurel Aitken,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Fela Kuti,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
The Real Kids,
The Searchers,
Shuggie Otis,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mary Jane Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Martian,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Ohio Players,
Absolute Body Control,
Tom Boy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Clear Light,
Drexciya,
Eric Copeland,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mo-Dettes,
Chris Corsano,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fuzztones,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joy Division,
Junior Murvin,
Skaos,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.