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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 the Sonics to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
One Last Wish,
MC5,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
Bootsy Collins,
Zero Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
T. Rex,
Quando Quango,
Amazonics,
Bang On A Can,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
The American Breed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
Metal Thangz,
David Axelrod,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed,
The Raincoats,
Tom Boy,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
The Pop Group,
Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Ornette Coleman,
Terry Callier,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
the Swans,
Eric Dolphy,
The Residents,
Alice Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
Brass Construction,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Rotary Connection,
The Cramps,
The Doors,
The Zeros,
ABC,
Fad Gadget,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
This Heat,
Unwound,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.