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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Ultra Naté,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
The Young Rascals,
Sixth Finger,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül II,
Arab on Radar,
Moebius,
Ice-T,
Bush Tetras,
Junior Murvin,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Gang Starr,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rekid,
Marc Almond,
Flipper,
Robert Wyatt,
Oblivians,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
The Residents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moss Icon,
Hoover,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Chrome,
The Fortunes,
Can,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rakim,
Japan,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Main Source,
The Beau Brummels,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
The Kinks,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.