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 Kyrgyzstan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Graham Central Station,
Theoretical Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Reuben Wilson,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Archie Shepp,
David McCallum,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
John Cale,
Althea and Donna,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Animal Collective,
The Selecter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
Trumans Water,
Mark Hollis,
Duran Duran,
Chrome,
Connie Case,
Barbara Tucker,
Yusef Lateef,
Shuggie Otis,
The Motions,
Moebius,
The Skatalites,
Supertramp,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Remains,
Joe Smooth,
The Zeros,
The Divine Comedy,
Mr. Review,
The Victims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nirvana,
AZ,
The Saints,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eddi Front,
Aural Exciters,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Schoolly D,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.