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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Procol Harum,
Ludus,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
Outsiders,
Intrusion,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Bananas,
Little Man,
Dark Day,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Tres Demented,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
The Count Five,
Pierre Henry,
Cal Tjader,
The Seeds,
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spandau Ballet,
The Electric Prunes,
Wings,
This Heat,
DJ Sneak,
Flash Fearless,
Dual Sessions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suburban Knight,
Symarip,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Wire,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Infiniti,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Searchers,
Michelle Simonal,
Talk Talk,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
AZ,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Underground Resistance,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.