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 Armenia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris & Cosey to the rock 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Los Fastidios,
Brick,
Nils Olav,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
The Remains,
Grey Daturas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Liliput,
Shoche,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Tom Boy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Joensuu 1685,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
New York Dolls,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Maleditus Sound,
Jawbox,
Jeff Mills,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gap Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Panda Bear,
Crash Course in Science,
The Motions,
Cameo,
Japan,
Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oblivians,
Pagans,
Lakeside,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
Camberwell Now,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Busters,
Absolute Body Control,
Stereo Dub,
Rotary Connection,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Rod Modell,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.