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 Liechtenstein and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Negative Approach to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lyres,
The Techniques,
Symarip,
Motorama,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
The Grass Roots,
Lungfish,
Brothers Johnson,
Tommy Roe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
Albert Ayler,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
Alton Ellis,
The Skatalites,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Swell Maps,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cymande,
Dawn Penn,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispian St. Peters,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
The Vogues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blancmange,
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Buckinghams,
Y Pants,
Sam Rivers,
The Cramps,
The Fugs,
CMW,
Livin' Joy,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.