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 Vietnam and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
the Association,
Nirvana,
X-101,
Groovy Waters,
Pharoah Sanders,
CMW,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Faraquet,
EPMD,
The Skatalites,
JFA,
Kurtis Blow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alton Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
Motorama,
Pole,
Aaron Thompson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Derrick May,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
K-Klass,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sixth Finger,
KRS-One,
Goldenarms,
Man Eating Sloth,
E-Dancer,
Rhythm & Sound,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Symarip,
The Moody Blues,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
The Walker Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angry Samoans,
Fatback Band,
Yaz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smoke,
The Move,
Lyres,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Max Romeo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.