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 Venezuela and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Black Pus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Iggy Pop,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hasil Adkins,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Loose Ends,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eddi Front,
Lyres,
Howard Jones,
Tom Boy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Man Parrish,
Swans,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Soulsonic Force,
Au Pairs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
Ten City,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scion,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Enemy,
Idris Muhammad,
Suicide,
Swell Maps,
Neu!,
DJ Style,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
Nas,
The Music Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy Collins,
Tomorrow,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barry Ungar,
Royal Trux,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.