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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minor Threat to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
Crime,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
ABC,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
Reuben Wilson,
Funkadelic,
David Axelrod,
Main Source,
Kenny Larkin,
Second Layer,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
The Gap Band,
Dual Sessions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tim Buckley,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
MDC,
Steve Hackett,
Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dead C,
Idris Muhammad,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
Eli Mardock,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fear,
Angry Samoans,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Skaos,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rites of Spring,
Mark Hollis,
UT,
The Names,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kurtis Blow,
Anakelly,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fatback Band,
Visage,
The Barracudas,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.