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 Bahrain and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radiohead to the crunk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Leaves,
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment,
D'Angelo,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
Howard Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Seeds,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spandau Ballet,
David McCallum,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Terry,
Robert Wyatt,
Thee Headcoats,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
Q65,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Panda Bear,
The Motions,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Los Fastidios,
Scrapy,
Minutemen,
Warren Ellis,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Inner City,
Eurythmics,
The Happenings,
Johnny Clarke,
Mantronix,
Main Source,
Boz Scaggs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABC,
Stiv Bators,
Dennis Brown,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.