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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 EPMD 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Wells,
Moebius,
Metal Thangz,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faust,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Technova,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
Unwound,
David McCallum,
The Monochrome Set,
The Stooges,
Absolute Body Control,
Skarface,
Bill Near,
Electric Prunes,
Black Flag,
Eve St. Jones,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
The Last Poets,
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
Bronski Beat,
Cheater Slicks,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
The Standells,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
The Sonics,
Jandek,
Mr. Review,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Darondo,
Qualms,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Associates,
Dawn Penn,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Das Ding,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
Gang of Four,
The Motions,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.