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 Namibia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Lebanon Hanover to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Aloha Tigers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Slave,
The Star Department,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Sheep,
Wings,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
Cal Tjader,
Tubeway Army,
Popol Vuh,
Mars,
Infiniti,
Cecil Taylor,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Barracudas,
The Birthday Party,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Grey Daturas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Franke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Martian,
Panda Bear,
The Mummies,
L. Decosne,
Rapeman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lalann,
Camberwell Now,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Icehouse,
Marmalade,
Marvin Gaye,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Wyatt,
The Modern Lovers,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.