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 Iraq and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Index to the rock 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cramps,
Alison Limerick,
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented,
Godley & Creme,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Althea and Donna,
Grey Daturas,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
the Fania All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
Tom Boy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gladiators,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scan 7,
ABBA,
The Stooges,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pylon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
The Black Dice,
Accadde A,
Inner City,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Clarke,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
Eve St. Jones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moebius,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fat Boys,
Infiniti,
Sixth Finger,
Arcadia,
Lungfish,
The Offenders,
Dave Gahan,
Ronan,
The Human League,
UT,
John Foxx,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.