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 Uzbekistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 KRS-One to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
The Litter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül,
Warren Ellis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Al Stewart,
Mantronix,
DJ Style,
the Swans,
E-Dancer,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joey Negro,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
The Velvet Underground,
Juan Atkins,
Intrusion,
cv313,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
Silicon Teens,
Ornette Coleman,
The Busters,
Adolescents,
X-101,
Zero Boys,
The Move,
Sixth Finger,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Agent Orange,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
Oneida,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Buckinghams,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Nas,
Loose Ends,
Oblivians,
Grauzone,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.