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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Teasers to the dance 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare 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 chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Bowie,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Sherman,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Absolute Body Control,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
The Slackers,
Joe Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Ohio Players,
Amazonics,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nirvana,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
Severed Heads,
Godley & Creme,
Michelle Simonal,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aaron Thompson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Funkadelic,
Joey Negro,
John Foxx,
Swell Maps,
The Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ludus,
Barrington Levy,
Harmonia,
Angry Samoans,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marmalade,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.