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 Oman and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Man Parrish to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Silicon Teens,
Vladislav Delay,
the Bar-Kays,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
T.S.O.L.,
The Motions,
Youth Brigade,
Main Source,
Monks,
June of 44,
R.M.O.,
Porter Ricks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Bourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Surgeon,
Sonic Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kurtis Blow,
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
The Names,
Oblivians,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül II,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Bananas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yaz,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David Bowie,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lakeside,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Josef K,
Q65,
Siglo XX,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.