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 Angola and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Khruangbin to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
PIL,
Sight & Sound,
Ludus,
Crooked Eye,
The Black Dice,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
Sugar Minott,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
Rosa Yemen,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispian St. Peters,
Youth Brigade,
The Angels of Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonic Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Junior Murvin,
Procol Harum,
Amon Düül,
Minny Pops,
Aloha Tigers,
Pagans,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Section 25,
Nils Olav,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Funky Four + One,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
Soulsonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Eric Dolphy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.