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 Syria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Throbbing Gristle 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Popol Vuh,
Carl Craig,
Tears for Fears,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
Zapp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
Rites of Spring,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oneida,
Main Source,
Skaos,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Whodini,
Motorama,
Monks,
Malaria!,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Christie,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lower 48,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Janne Schatter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Flag,
Bronski Beat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crooked Eye,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Litter,
Amon Düül,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul II Soul,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blake Baxter,
Albert Ayler,
Idris Muhammad,
Au Pairs,
The Offenders,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.