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 East Timor and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro 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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Siglo XX,
The Cure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerri Chandler,
Minutemen,
Rosa Yemen,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Niagra,
The Golliwogs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eurythmics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aswad,
Pole,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lungfish,
These Immortal Souls,
One Last Wish,
The Vogues,
Spandau Ballet,
Davy DMX,
a-ha,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!,
Nik Kershaw,
Technova,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Normal,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick Morgan,
Infiniti,
Monolake,
Index,
This Heat,
Nico,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brick,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.