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 Liberia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stooges to the techno 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Accadde A,
The Last Poets,
The Offenders,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
New York Dolls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crime,
The Searchers,
The Misunderstood,
Echospace,
Subhumans,
Archie Shepp,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
DNA,
Alice Coltrane,
Steve Hackett,
Flash Fearless,
Black Bananas,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonic Youth,
The Angels of Light,
The Stooges,
Absolute Body Control,
CMW,
Rakim,
The Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DJ Sneak,
Mr. Review,
The United States of America,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
Delta 5,
Nik Kershaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Sarah Menescal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
48th St. Collective,
Visage,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mandrill,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.