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 Niger and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Scion to the funk 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Curtis Mayfield,
Y Pants,
Angry Samoans,
the Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Pylon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ossler,
Brass Construction,
Roxy Music,
Piero Umiliani,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Tubeway Army,
Davy DMX,
Brick,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slits,
Section 25,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Nas,
Quadrant,
Moebius,
the Germs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Velvet Underground,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donny Hathaway,
Alice Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
The Kinks,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fortunes,
Pulsallama,
DJ Sneak,
Bad Manners,
Vainqueur,
Hardrive,
JFA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Animal Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.