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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Black Flag,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nick Fraelich,
Stockholm Monsters,
Surgeon,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Wells,
Sex Pistols,
Animal Collective,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
The Smoke,
Fatback Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lightning Bolt,
the Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
CMW,
The Raincoats,
Aswad,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Residents,
The Knickerbockers,
Minor Threat,
Hashim,
Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alison Limerick,
The Pretty Things,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
Al Stewart,
Kerri Chandler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fluxion,
Thee Headcoats,
K-Klass,
Hoover,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.