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 Chad and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q and Not U,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maurizio,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
The Raincoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
The Modern Lovers,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers,
Livin' Joy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Tim Buckley,
Erasure,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
Fad Gadget,
John Cale,
Shoche,
Khruangbin,
Talk Talk,
Donald Byrd,
Zapp,
Leonard Cohen,
Eli Mardock,
Maleditus Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
Faraquet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Nirvana,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacob Miller,
Cybotron,
Saccharine Trust,
The Red Krayola,
Subhumans,
Mo-Dettes,
Absolute Body Control,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yaz,
Swell Maps,
Malaria!,
Ken Boothe,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.