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 Afghanistan and from Woodstock.
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 Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Traffic Nightmare to the funk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Subhumans,
Cameo,
Isaac Hayes,
Drexciya,
Skarface,
Donald Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Hasil Adkins,
Eurythmics,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Robert Wyatt,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Magma,
Ituana,
Lou Christie,
Livin' Joy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythm & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Grey Daturas,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
The Buckinghams,
Anthony Braxton,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fortunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mars,
Black Pus,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
The Modern Lovers,
The Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Ossler,
Dawn Penn,
Byron Stingily,
Pantytec,
The Fuzztones,
David Bowie,
Essential Logic,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Spoonie Gee,
Joe Smooth,
Half Japanese,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.