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 Iraq and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Hutcherson 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Model 500,
The Blackbyrds,
Connie Case,
Chrome,
Henry Cow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Davy DMX,
Peter & Gordon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker,
Eric Dolphy,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gories,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Negative Approach,
Stiv Bators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
the Normal,
Sixth Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Pop Group,
The Music Machine,
The Index,
Urselle,
Marc Almond,
48th St. Collective,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magma,
Sarah Menescal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris Corsano,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Wake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.