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 Serbia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Graham Central Station 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Almond,
DJ Sneak,
Das Ding,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pole,
Masters at Work,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sixth Finger,
Trumans Water,
Amon Düül,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kas Product,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
The Mummies,
Roy Ayers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Easy Going,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cameo,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Peter & Gordon,
The Litter,
The Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Parry Music,
Marmalade,
Wolf Eyes,
Goldenarms,
Stiv Bators,
Deepchord,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
kango's stein massive,
John Foxx,
Maurizio,
Cybotron,
Blake Baxter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magazine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sonic Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Fraelich,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.