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 Equatorial Guinea and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gastr Del Sol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
Ice-T,
Sam Rivers,
Jacob Miller,
New Order,
The Smiths,
Outsiders,
Leonard Cohen,
Mark Hollis,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jawbox,
The Martian,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fugazi,
F. McDonald,
Junior Murvin,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
Faust,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Raincoats,
Black Pus,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Mr. Review,
Motorama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bizarre Inc.,
Malaria!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
Livin' Joy,
Lindisfarne,
Suburban Knight,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Black Flag,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Invisible,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.