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 Cape Verde and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the funk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Royal Trux,
Fatback Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
The Count Five,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Popol Vuh,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aswad,
the Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Smooth,
cv313,
The Saints,
Minny Pops,
The Beau Brummels,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Audionom,
The Techniques,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
The Mojo Men,
Negative Approach,
The Black Dice,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
Kaleidoscope,
Altered Images,
Boogie Down Productions,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Vogues,
Q65,
Stereo Dub,
Eddi Front,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Zero Boys,
Bill Near,
the Swans,
Black Flag,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.