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 Paraguay and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 dance 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
The Happenings,
The Mojo Men,
Jesper Dahlback,
Andrew Hill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shoche,
The Birthday Party,
Ponytail,
Darondo,
Scientists,
The Slackers,
Alice Coltrane,
Supertramp,
Bob Dylan,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Newcleus,
Dawn Penn,
Lakeside,
Television Personalities,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Quantec,
The Litter,
Derrick Morgan,
Alton Ellis,
the Slits,
The Durutti Column,
Saccharine Trust,
These Immortal Souls,
Nik Kershaw,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
John Foxx,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lungfish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erykah Badu,
Black Bananas,
Gang of Four,
Pulsallama,
Brand Nubian,
Essential Logic,
Leonard Cohen,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.