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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
Rekid,
Arab on Radar,
ABBA,
Siglo XX,
Absolute Body Control,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Mills,
Scan 7,
The Music Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Minnie Riperton,
Flash Fearless,
Max Romeo,
The Saints,
Delta 5,
Avey Tare,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Icehouse,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Near,
The Golliwogs,
Khruangbin,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Basic Channel,
Howard Jones,
Guru Guru,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monks,
Faust,
Danielle Patucci,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radio Birdman,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Angels of Light,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Nirvana,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.