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 South Sudan and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grauzone to the techno 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faust,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Leaves,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Slave,
Eric Dolphy,
Vainqueur,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nas,
Kurtis Blow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Associates,
Brand Nubian,
Grey Daturas,
Monks,
John Foxx,
Robert Wyatt,
Scrapy,
The Grass Roots,
Underground Resistance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
X-101,
UT,
The Human League,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
Quadrant,
Q65,
Amazonics,
Todd Terry,
Matthew Halsall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Sugar Minott,
The Happenings,
Oblivians,
China Crisis,
Eli Mardock,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
LL Cool J,
Con Funk Shun,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
Danielle Patucci,
Boz Scaggs,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.