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 Indonesia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
John Foxx,
Smog,
The Young Rascals,
OOIOO,
the Slits,
The Residents,
the Human League,
The Moody Blues,
Motorama,
Moebius,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharoah Sanders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Underground Resistance,
Franke,
Scott Walker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slick Rick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
ABBA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Model 500,
Intrusion,
Lalann,
The Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Görl,
The Cure,
The Invisible,
Kayak,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
ABC,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eurythmics,
Soul II Soul,
Fugazi,
Quadrant,
Colin Newman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June Days,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.