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 Egypt and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Saints to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Crooked Eye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sparks,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
Boogie Down Productions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Essential Logic,
Lalann,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fuzztones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
Archie Shepp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mantronix,
John Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Siglo XX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Finger,
The Evens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kayak,
Oneida,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Womack,
The Victims,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
Absolute Body Control,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.