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 Kyrgyzstan and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Aaron Thompson,
Half Japanese,
The Smoke,
LL Cool J,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brass Construction,
The Kinks,
Joe Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Wally Richardson,
Scrapy,
Eric Dolphy,
Glenn Branca,
Junior Murvin,
The Moody Blues,
Pulsallama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Sun Ra,
Bluetip,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Copeland,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radio Birdman,
Althea and Donna,
Monks,
Blake Baxter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Stooges,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Residents,
David McCallum,
Harry Pussy,
Pylon,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Basic Channel,
Lungfish,
Nirvana,
PIL,
Soul II Soul,
Royal Trux,
Circle Jerks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Sneak,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.