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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
Sound Behaviour,
Josef K,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Fraelich,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Iggy Pop,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Index,
The Walker Brothers,
cv313,
Eddi Front,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra,
Shoche,
Average White Band,
The Residents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Young Marble Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang of Four,
The Happenings,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
L. Decosne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
Hashim,
Joensuu 1685,
Theoretical Girls,
Soft Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Audionom,
Yaz,
Mars,
Can,
Magazine,
Main Source,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.