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 South Africa and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magma,
Chris & Cosey,
Guru Guru,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Buckinghams,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Absolute Body Control,
Organ,
Slave,
The Modern Lovers,
Cymande,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
Maleditus Sound,
Wire,
The Remains,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
The Human League,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Tubeway Army,
Agent Orange,
Silicon Teens,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
Theoretical Girls,
Joy Division,
Amon Düül,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Patti Smith,
Mad Mike,
A Certain Ratio,
Oblivians,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Sonic Youth,
The Pop Group,
Drive Like Jehu,
KRS-One,
Moebius,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Animal Collective,
Yellowson,
The Divine Comedy,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.