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 Swaziland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Susan Cadogan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
The Offenders,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bauhaus,
Lindisfarne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Clarke,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Alton Ellis,
Marmalade,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
Joy Division,
DJ Sneak,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül II,
The Happenings,
Chris Corsano,
Franke,
Sugar Minott,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Grass Roots,
The Toasters,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
LL Cool J,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
Camberwell Now,
The Shadows of Knight,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Motions,
Sex Pistols,
Thompson Twins,
D'Angelo,
DNA,
Boredoms,
The Leaves,
Albert Ayler,
The Last Poets,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.