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 Colombia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 L. Decosne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rapeman,
Motorama,
Hashim,
Warsaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
Ten City,
One Last Wish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Minny Pops,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lalo Schifrin,
Idris Muhammad,
Ossler,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neil Young,
Robert Wyatt,
Soulsonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronan,
Aloha Tigers,
Jandek,
Roxy Music,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
EPMD,
Thompson Twins,
Kayak,
The Moleskins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arthur Verocai,
Sparks,
Mandrill,
Smog,
Piero Umiliani,
Q and Not U,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neu!,
Ornette Coleman,
Pagans,
Todd Terry,
Can,
Japan,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
K-Klass,
Boredoms,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.