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 Ecuador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Brand Nubian to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
The Dirtbombs,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Style,
The Cure,
The Toasters,
Dawn Penn,
Bush Tetras,
Barry Ungar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Andrew Hill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Aural Exciters,
The Last Poets,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
H. Thieme,
Oblivians,
Todd Rundgren,
Fatback Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
Peter and Kerry,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-Ray Spex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
The Busters,
Interpol,
Pierre Henry,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Drexciya,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Alarm Clocks,
Audionom,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric Dolphy,
Nick Fraelich,
Cymande,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
Derrick Morgan,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
Livin' Joy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.