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 Samoa 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Jacques Brel 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Deepchord,
June of 44,
Yusef Lateef,
The Misunderstood,
E-Dancer,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Association,
Minny Pops,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
Absolute Body Control,
Delon & Dalcan,
Livin' Joy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marine Girls,
Scott Walker,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Görl,
Wasted Youth,
ABC,
The Smiths,
The Smoke,
The Velvet Underground,
Hashim,
This Heat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Shoche,
World's Most,
Moby Grape,
Fad Gadget,
Porter Ricks,
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
The Golliwogs,
The Beau Brummels,
Fugazi,
The American Breed,
Echospace,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare,
The Blackbyrds,
Los Fastidios,
Qualms,
Kas Product,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
The Count Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Connie Case,
The Residents,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.