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 Montenegro and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba 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 Mad Mike to the grime 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smiths,
Deakin,
Prince Buster,
Freddie Wadling,
T.S.O.L.,
Khruangbin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Kerri Chandler,
Pussy Galore,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Womack,
Los Fastidios,
X-102,
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Sällskapet,
Smog,
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
The Misunderstood,
Bang On A Can,
New York Dolls,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
The Gun Club,
Joe Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Dawn Penn,
The Electric Prunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Quadrant,
Delta 5,
The Pop Group,
The American Breed,
L. Decosne,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan,
Second Layer,
Grauzone,
Lyres,
Quantec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sonic Youth,
Qualms,
Metal Thangz,
Liliput,
JFA,
Sam Rivers,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.