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 Germany and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Holger Czukay 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry 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 Fugs,
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
The Index,
Sun City Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gun Club,
Mantronix,
In Retrospect,
The Invisible,
Funkadelic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ludus,
Charles Mingus,
The Slits,
48th St. Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zapp,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Goldenarms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cecil Taylor,
Isaac Hayes,
One Last Wish,
Anthony Braxton,
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultravox,
Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Pagans,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Franke,
The Wake,
The Dave Clark Five,
DNA,
Grey Daturas,
Mandrill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül II,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims,
The Remains,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pulsallama,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.