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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Bluetip to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 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 Bill Wells 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?
Lou Christie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Von Mondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Idris Muhammad,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
Slave,
Tubeway Army,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
Alton Ellis,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Sherman,
Yellowson,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Görl,
Franke,
Funkadelic,
Quantec,
The Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Enemy,
Rod Modell,
The Walker Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlback,
Intrusion,
Al Stewart,
Camouflage,
Zero Boys,
the Sonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Harpers Bizarre,
Television,
X-102,
The Gap Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
Sandy B,
Mantronix,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.