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 Panama and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Johnny Clarke to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Barracudas,
The Star Department,
The Neon Judgement,
Banda Bassotti,
Underground Resistance,
Minny Pops,
Scientists,
Magazine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Youth Brigade,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
ABC,
Shuggie Otis,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Theoretical Girls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warsaw,
Suburban Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Görl,
Deepchord,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
Dual Sessions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantaleimon,
Young Marble Giants,
Outsiders,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.