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 Costa Rica and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Buzzcocks to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
John Holt,
The Birthday Party,
The Knickerbockers,
Half Japanese,
Metal Thangz,
The New Christs,
Black Flag,
Procol Harum,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Don Cherry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
UT,
Cal Tjader,
The J.B.'s,
Peter & Gordon,
The Star Department,
The Fugs,
Technova,
Swans,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
Au Pairs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Residents,
Tim Buckley,
Wire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Lou Reed,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Simply Red,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Albert Ayler,
Matthew Halsall,
James White and The Blacks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Icehouse,
Symarip,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Starr,
The Gladiators,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.