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 Cuba and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
PIL,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Pagans,
Joyce Sims,
Idris Muhammad,
Supertramp,
Black Bananas,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Chris Corsano,
The Misunderstood,
The Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Vogues,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
Roy Ayers,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
the Germs,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Hood,
Harmonia,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
R.M.O.,
Dennis Brown,
Scan 7,
Joey Negro,
Niagra,
AZ,
Flipper,
The Zeros,
Donny Hathaway,
Cluster,
Connie Case,
Roger Hodgson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stiv Bators,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.