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 Sierra Leone and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Model 500 to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Reagan Youth,
Black Flag,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arab on Radar,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Josef K,
The Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour,
Shuggie Otis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Chris & Cosey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Rapeman,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
The Last Poets,
Flipper,
Hasil Adkins,
Erykah Badu,
Procol Harum,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Darondo,
Cybotron,
the Germs,
The Fall,
Wally Richardson,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camberwell Now,
Zero Boys,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.