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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
B.T. Express,
Tubeway Army,
Oblivians,
The Mojo Men,
Swell Maps,
T. Rex,
Derrick May,
Pussy Galore,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Near,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
The Selecter,
Japan,
D'Angelo,
Ultra Naté,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Kinks,
Letta Mbulu,
Outsiders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Clear Light,
Kenny Larkin,
Severed Heads,
Drexciya,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mandrill,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Simply Red,
Rotary Connection,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Donny Hathaway,
Grey Daturas,
Junior Murvin,
the Germs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yusef Lateef,
The Count Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Godley & Creme,
Ossler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Real Kids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Q65,
FM Einheit,
Lightning Bolt,
Barclay James Harvest,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Grass Roots,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.