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 Morocco and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Fugs,
The Victims,
Procol Harum,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Echospace,
Gastr Del Sol,
Smog,
Urselle,
Wolf Eyes,
Bluetip,
David Bowie,
Donald Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
Tommy Roe,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Peter and Kerry,
Letta Mbulu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q65,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Subhumans,
Technova,
Malaria!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Clear Light,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Derrick May,
Alice Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
Ornette Coleman,
Main Source,
Alison Limerick,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry's Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Soft Cell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
The Names,
The Music Machine,
Albert Ayler,
Barrington Levy,
Shoche,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.