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 Suriname and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Scientists,
Qualms,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Moon,
Technova,
Sparks,
Barbara Tucker,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Sneak,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
Iggy Pop,
Graham Central Station,
Organ,
In Retrospect,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
The Stooges,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultravox,
Yaz,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Bourne,
Scion,
Albert Ayler,
Lalann,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Rotary Connection,
Nirvana,
The Mummies,
Model 500,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
Radio Birdman,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Porter Ricks,
The Misunderstood,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Hood,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Con Funk Shun,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.