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 Canada and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Max Romeo to the rock 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Albert Ayler,
Yellowson,
Chris Corsano,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slackers,
Lower 48,
kango's stein massive,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eric Dolphy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Walker Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
The J.B.'s,
Wings,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
The New Christs,
Little Man,
Glambeats Corp.,
Don Cherry,
The Knickerbockers,
The Invisible,
Barrington Levy,
Darondo,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Stetsasonic,
Sonic Youth,
Skriet,
the Sonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magazine,
John Foxx,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marvin Gaye,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
B.T. Express,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tres Demented,
Mantronix,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Wally Richardson,
Drexciya,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
Scientists,
The Move,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.