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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Underground Resistance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
Quantec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Oneida,
Hasil Adkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kaleidoscope,
Barry Ungar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roger Hodgson,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mark Hollis,
Tomorrow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
Delta 5,
The Happenings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fugazi,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Urselle,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Organ,
UT,
Infiniti,
The Seeds,
Negative Approach,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donny Hathaway,
the Fania All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Scientists,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
Newcleus,
Jawbox,
Peter and Kerry,
Patti Smith,
Pulsallama,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang On A Can,
Outsiders,
The Pop Group,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Gang Starr,
The Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.