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 Fiji 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
10cc,
Harry Pussy,
Subhumans,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
Motorama,
Fad Gadget,
Charles Mingus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
Slick Rick,
Fluxion,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick May,
In Retrospect,
Chris & Cosey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Little Man,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Idris Muhammad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sonics,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Vogues,
Technova,
Johnny Clarke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Juan Atkins,
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
David Axelrod,
China Crisis,
Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bluetip,
Joe Smooth,
Thompson Twins,
Eurythmics,
Aural Exciters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Gang of Four,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.