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 Canada and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nation of Ulysses 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Carl Craig,
The Gun Club,
A Certain Ratio,
Animal Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Quando Quango,
R.M.O.,
Todd Rundgren,
Cecil Taylor,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Jawbox,
FM Einheit,
The Fortunes,
Sun Ra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Buzzcocks,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
Donald Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
Alphaville,
Jacob Miller,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-Ray Spex,
Erasure,
Anthony Braxton,
Deepchord,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
Inner City,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Mission of Burma,
Panda Bear,
Mad Mike,
Make Up,
Agent Orange,
Trumans Water,
Don Cherry,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
The Index,
Second Layer,
Iggy Pop,
JFA,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.