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 Somalia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Johnny Osbourne to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Bar-Kays,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fat Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crime,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New York Dolls,
Mandrill,
Jeru the Damaja,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang On A Can,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Sneak,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Guru Guru,
The Evens,
UT,
Ronnie Foster,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Martian,
Aloha Tigers,
LL Cool J,
Harry Pussy,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry's Kids,
Suburban Knight,
June of 44,
One Last Wish,
Dual Sessions,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Bill Wells,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Funkadelic,
James White and The Blacks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arthur Verocai,
Technova,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
Arab on Radar,
KRS-One,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
Minor Threat,
New Order,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.