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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Mighty Diamonds to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
Metal Thangz,
Donald Byrd,
Ludus,
Scan 7,
The Smoke,
Susan Cadogan,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Mission of Burma,
Altered Images,
Oblivians,
Archie Shepp,
Y Pants,
OOIOO,
John Lydon,
The Pretty Things,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Divine Comedy,
World's Most,
Deakin,
Moebius,
Ituana,
The Invisible,
the Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Lynne,
Camberwell Now,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roger Hodgson,
Deadbeat,
The Mojo Men,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Technova,
Joe Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Ken Boothe,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
The New Christs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
the Germs,
Angry Samoans,
R.M.O.,
Nico,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
The Misunderstood,
Grauzone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gun Club,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.