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 Azerbaijan and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Alton Ellis to the crunk 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
KRS-One,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
Moss Icon,
Das Ding,
The Residents,
Agent Orange,
Black Flag,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Loose Ends,
Eric B and Rakim,
OOIOO,
China Crisis,
David Bowie,
The Raincoats,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gichy Dan,
The Durutti Column,
Neu!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Inner City,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed,
ABBA,
The Saints,
Junior Murvin,
the Slits,
Whodini,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
The Pop Group,
Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lower 48,
The Cramps,
Fad Gadget,
Blake Baxter,
Royal Trux,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gong,
Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
Main Source,
Drexciya,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faust,
Derrick May,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Underground Resistance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nico,
Desert Stars,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.