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 Tajikistan and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minor Threat,
Suicide,
Crime,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pierre Henry,
Slick Rick,
Echospace,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
The Skatalites,
The Fugs,
Nils Olav,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Todd Terry,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Ludus,
Joensuu 1685,
Television Personalities,
Marshall Jefferson,
Guru Guru,
Wolf Eyes,
The Remains,
Scion,
FM Einheit,
Blossom Toes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Henry Cow,
Dave Gahan,
The Sonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Smog,
This Heat,
The Evens,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
The Zeros,
Zapp,
Neu!,
The Wake,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ronnie Foster,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultra Naté,
Camberwell Now,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.