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 Monaco 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liliput to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Ossler,
The Vogues,
Suicide,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
Masters at Work,
The Gap Band,
KRS-One,
Jandek,
Susan Cadogan,
Pole,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flash Fearless,
Franke,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-Ray Spex,
Aloha Tigers,
Deadbeat,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blues Magoos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mad Mike,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Wake,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Unwound,
Faust,
Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Grauzone,
The Associates,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
Bang On A Can,
L. Decosne,
Yusef Lateef,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
U.S. Maple,
Donald Byrd,
Yazoo,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Moon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Pantytec,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
Sight & Sound,
Maleditus Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.