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 Ghana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 disco 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks 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?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Tubeway Army,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Siglo XX,
The Gladiators,
Magazine,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Black Bananas,
Mr. Review,
Amazonics,
The Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
David Bowie,
Jeff Mills,
Darondo,
Bush Tetras,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Offenders,
The Associates,
Unrelated Segments,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maurizio,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Zeros,
Sound Behaviour,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharoah Sanders,
Connie Case,
Trumans Water,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed,
Eric Dolphy,
Ossler,
Talk Talk,
Brand Nubian,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reagan Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Swell Maps,
The Vogues,
Boz Scaggs,
Newcleus,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.