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 Pakistan and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 Fort Wilson Riot 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Moebius,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Khruangbin,
The Black Dice,
Alphaville,
Ponytail,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angry Samoans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ice-T,
The J.B.'s,
Ituana,
Eddi Front,
Quantec,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
Underground Resistance,
The Zeros,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joyce Sims,
Q and Not U,
The Standells,
Wally Richardson,
The Fortunes,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Anthony Braxton,
Bush Tetras,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Theoretical Girls,
The Evens,
DNA,
Lalann,
The Happenings,
Aswad,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan,
Mars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Modern Lovers,
Max Romeo,
Fatback Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Leonard Cohen,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.