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 Japan and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Cecil Taylor,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Selecter,
The Zeros,
Al Stewart,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marine Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mo-Dettes,
Tommy Roe,
Sparks,
Y Pants,
Reagan Youth,
David Axelrod,
Dead Boys,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Motorama,
Franke,
Joe Finger,
Buzzcocks,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Pylon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cymande,
Carl Craig,
the Sonics,
The Pretty Things,
Charles Mingus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
Marcia Griffiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
Japan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Visage,
The Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Womack,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ornette Coleman,
The Seeds,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.