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 Spain and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Jacob Miller,
Donald Byrd,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare,
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiohead,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Iggy Pop,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
The Litter,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quadrant,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aloha Tigers,
Cheater Slicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Interpol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
The Birthday Party,
Black Pus,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Bananas,
Rod Modell,
Gichy Dan,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kas Product,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
Bauhaus,
Half Japanese,
Camberwell Now,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rakim,
Monks,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.