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 Estonia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minnie Riperton,
Khruangbin,
Unwound,
the Bar-Kays,
Crash Course in Science,
Mantronix,
Subhumans,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
Derrick Morgan,
Newcleus,
The Pretty Things,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maurizio,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monochrome Set,
Scott Walker,
Warsaw,
The Victims,
Basic Channel,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mr. Review,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Byrd,
One Last Wish,
B.T. Express,
Freddie Wadling,
The Neon Judgement,
Joensuu 1685,
Darondo,
Anthony Braxton,
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dual Sessions,
Television,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Move,
Ossler,
Absolute Body Control,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Jeru the Damaja,
K-Klass,
X-102,
Agitation Free,
DJ Sneak,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terrestrial Tones,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.