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 Colombia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rap 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Excepter,
The Martian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ice-T,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
Intrusion,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Tremeloes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
X-102,
Gang of Four,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magma,
Crooked Eye,
Aural Exciters,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
Tears for Fears,
Dennis Brown,
June of 44,
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fugazi,
Dawn Penn,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Skatalites,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stetsasonic,
Popol Vuh,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Bananas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nico,
E-Dancer,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Surgeon,
Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dirtbombs,
Ohio Players,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.