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 Liechtenstein and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Skaos to the rock 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Steve Hackett,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Warsaw,
The Busters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Style,
Deadbeat,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Desert Stars,
Agent Orange,
Duran Duran,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
These Immortal Souls,
World's Most,
Wolf Eyes,
Charles Mingus,
Drexciya,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Quando Quango,
The Fugs,
Blake Baxter,
Supertramp,
Ludus,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
Bill Near,
The Sound,
Swans,
Simply Red,
Moebius,
Section 25,
Joey Negro,
Dawn Penn,
The New Christs,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare,
Jandek,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
EPMD,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
The United States of America,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television Personalities,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.