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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
Nils Olav,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joyce Sims,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
cv313,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
Skriet,
ABBA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Glenn Branca,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
The Moleskins,
Henry Cow,
Colin Newman,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-Ray Spex,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
Amon Düül,
Erykah Badu,
Warren Ellis,
Pagans,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
Toni Rubio,
Jimmy McGriff,
China Crisis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soul II Soul,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
AZ,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeff Mills,
Q and Not U,
Essential Logic,
Rod Modell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kas Product,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kaleidoscope,
the Association,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.