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 Ukraine and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 chamberlin 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 The Fugs to the grunge 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Hill,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tres Demented,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
June of 44,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Lucky Dragons,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Gang Dance,
R.M.O.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Vainqueur,
Talk Talk,
Ituana,
Rotary Connection,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Womack,
Terry Callier,
KRS-One,
Main Source,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Detroit Cobras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fela Kuti,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Wings,
The Slits,
Cluster,
Donald Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
Lou Reed,
Barry Ungar,
Half Japanese,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.