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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Stooges to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Anakelly,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalann,
Average White Band,
Country Teasers,
Maurizio,
Iggy Pop,
The Slackers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Al Stewart,
The American Breed,
The Tremeloes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobbi Humphrey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stiv Bators,
Fear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dark Day,
Camouflage,
10cc,
Lightning Bolt,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronan,
Matthew Halsall,
Bad Manners,
Unwound,
Anthony Braxton,
Howard Jones,
Faraquet,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Pylon,
Slave,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
Whodini,
Pagans,
Icehouse,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sparks,
Mr. Review,
Lou Christie,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Slits,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
The Busters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun Ra,
Scratch Acid,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.