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 Dominica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Victims,
Brand Nubian,
Saccharine Trust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Stooges,
Matthew Halsall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
Bauhaus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bill Wells,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Cheater Slicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minor Threat,
Echospace,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
Average White Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Outsiders,
La Düsseldorf,
Intrusion,
Eurythmics,
Judy Mowatt,
Theoretical Girls,
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gladiators,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Panda Bear,
Neu!,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slave,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.