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 Kenya and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Knickerbockers to the disco 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marvin Gaye,
The Residents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Severed Heads,
Massinfluence,
K-Klass,
Scientists,
John Foxx,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Babytalk,
LL Cool J,
Sugar Minott,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moleskins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
Silicon Teens,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Shoche,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pylon,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Section 25,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liliput,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.