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 Sri Lanka and from New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Lungfish,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
Fugazi,
Underground Resistance,
Idris Muhammad,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Schoolly D,
Buzzcocks,
John Cale,
Marmalade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sparks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monolake,
10cc,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
Ludus,
Inner City,
The Names,
Average White Band,
Derrick May,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Soul Sonic Force,
Excepter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
The Velvet Underground,
Tim Buckley,
Infiniti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Young Rascals,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
Dual Sessions,
Motorama,
Main Source,
Franke,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.