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 Fiji and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rekid to the rap 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris Corsano,
JFA,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aloha Tigers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harmonia,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Certain Ratio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Stockholm Monsters,
Davy DMX,
The Remains,
Johnny Clarke,
Amazonics,
Nils Olav,
Jimmy McGriff,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Interpol,
Ponytail,
Aural Exciters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
Country Teasers,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
OOIOO,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang On A Can,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Altered Images,
Freddie Wadling,
Silicon Teens,
The Dead C,
Darondo,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cal Tjader,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
Clear Light,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.