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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
A Certain Ratio,
Sight & Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Groovy Waters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Ossler,
Swell Maps,
Faust,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
The Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Panda Bear,
The Searchers,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drexciya,
Urselle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lungfish,
Alice Coltrane,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
Niagra,
Albert Ayler,
Pierre Henry,
Arcadia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barry Ungar,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
Hashim,
DJ Sneak,
Cybotron,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
Wings,
Accadde A,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
48th St. Collective,
Franke,
Marc Almond,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.