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 Belarus and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Archie Shepp,
The New Christs,
June of 44,
Piero Umiliani,
Marcia Griffiths,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minny Pops,
Lungfish,
The Fire Engines,
Ossler,
The Sonics,
Fluxion,
Pagans,
Ten City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Nirvana,
Faraquet,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Yusef Lateef,
Wasted Youth,
The Mummies,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rapeman,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Deepchord,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
Pole,
Marc Almond,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Enemy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Tomorrow,
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang of Four,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
Groovy Waters,
Cecil Taylor,
Hashim,
Agitation Free,
Duran Duran,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Liliput,
AZ,
Dark Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Dave Gahan,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.