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 Laos and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MDC to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Animal Collective,
Warren Ellis,
The Trojans,
The Durutti Column,
the Normal,
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Neon Judgement,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dirtbombs,
David McCallum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Human League,
Reagan Youth,
Skarface,
Gabor Szabo,
Shuggie Otis,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
Dead Boys,
OOIOO,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Vladislav Delay,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cramps,
The Smoke,
Rosa Yemen,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Clarke,
The Searchers,
Interpol,
Dual Sessions,
Sound Behaviour,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
48th St. Collective,
Cybotron,
Funkadelic,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
Yusef Lateef,
K-Klass,
Dave Gahan,
Minnie Riperton,
Carl Craig,
The Last Poets,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.