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 Uganda and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Malaria! to the rap 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pagans,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Görl,
The Blackbyrds,
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Erykah Badu,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
PIL,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minny Pops,
Moby Grape,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
Ken Boothe,
Mars,
Amon Düül,
Swans,
Isaac Hayes,
Yellowson,
Arcadia,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Cowsills,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Mojo Men,
Lindisfarne,
Sugar Minott,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brothers Johnson,
John Coltrane,
The Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Zeros,
Marmalade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
E-Dancer,
Amon Düül II,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.