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 Korea North and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker to the funk 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
Todd Terry,
Rakim,
Max Romeo,
The Black Dice,
Technova,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unrelated Segments,
Spandau Ballet,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Freddie Wadling,
Steve Hackett,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
Rites of Spring,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flipper,
The Moleskins,
The Selecter,
Ken Boothe,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Niagra,
Lungfish,
The Divine Comedy,
Average White Band,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Joy Division,
Skriet,
Maurizio,
Lucky Dragons,
Urselle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hashim,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liliput,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.