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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Bizarre Inc. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
LL Cool J,
Lakeside,
Symarip,
New Order,
Mars,
Animal Collective,
X-101,
Laurel Aitken,
The Grass Roots,
Matthew Bourne,
kango's stein massive,
The Golliwogs,
the Normal,
Stereo Dub,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Knickerbockers,
Excepter,
Fluxion,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arab on Radar,
Index,
Archie Shepp,
Derrick May,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scratch Acid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ossler,
The Walker Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
Prince Buster,
Kurtis Blow,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fat Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
The Residents,
Von Mondo,
Minny Pops,
The Dead C,
Dark Day,
The Victims,
Aaron Thompson,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kayak,
Piero Umiliani,
Hoover,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.