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 Seychelles and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Avey Tare,
Gang Starr,
Derrick May,
Stetsasonic,
Cecil Taylor,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Dawn Penn,
8 Eyed Spy,
Organ,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
T. Rex,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
The Blues Magoos,
PIL,
The Misunderstood,
Tears for Fears,
The Mummies,
Neu!,
Panda Bear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Techniques,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nico,
the Germs,
These Immortal Souls,
Sarah Menescal,
FM Einheit,
Nik Kershaw,
Pierre Henry,
Essential Logic,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
DJ Sneak,
The Index,
Duran Duran,
The Cramps,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Eve St. Jones,
Magazine,
Robert Wyatt,
Barrington Levy,
In Retrospect,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Happenings,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.