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 Egypt and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dead Boys to the dance 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doors,
Heaven 17,
Minny Pops,
The Selecter,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
Organ,
Scion,
Man Parrish,
K-Klass,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magma,
Agitation Free,
Isaac Hayes,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cameo,
Bootsy Collins,
Alison Limerick,
Mo-Dettes,
Harmonia,
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marvin Gaye,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Excepter,
Bang On A Can,
Q65,
Altered Images,
Nico,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Fraelich,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Maleditus Sound,
Marmalade,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
The Happenings,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
Soul II Soul,
Reagan Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.