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 Ukraine and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Whodini to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rekid,
Davy DMX,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pagans,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
Kayak,
Isaac Hayes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Dolphy,
Can,
Grauzone,
Godley & Creme,
Funky Four + One,
the Germs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Pulsallama,
Franke,
Newcleus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Sheep,
kango's stein massive,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare,
The Saints,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Hood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monks,
The Doors,
New Order,
Crime,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Silicon Teens,
Half Japanese,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
Khruangbin,
Sandy B,
Rod Modell,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tim Buckley,
Average White Band,
The Five Americans,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.