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 Cape Verde and from Tokyo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
The American Breed,
Iggy Pop,
DNA,
Magma,
Albert Ayler,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Slits,
Fear,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Malaria!,
Judy Mowatt,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eli Mardock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Clarke,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
Kerri Chandler,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Pus,
Todd Terry,
Minnie Riperton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABBA,
The Gladiators,
Icehouse,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Wolf Eyes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
The Leaves,
Tears for Fears,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mummies,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Christie,
Fela Kuti,
Theoretical Girls,
Pulsallama,
Fluxion,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.