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 Barbados and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 Bill Wells to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Sonic Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Jawbox,
Iggy Pop,
Mandrill,
Television Personalities,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims,
Spandau Ballet,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
Stereo Dub,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy Collins,
Popol Vuh,
Sandy B,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
cv313,
Grandmaster Flash,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
The Skatalites,
The Blackbyrds,
Royal Trux,
Radio Birdman,
Section 25,
The Doobie Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Godley & Creme,
Erasure,
Minnie Riperton,
Marine Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
Pierre Henry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.