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 Rwanda and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Funky Four + One 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Sheep,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sarah Menescal,
Television,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brick,
Gichy Dan,
The Leaves,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Mills,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Delta 5,
Infiniti,
Deepchord,
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Derrick May,
Alton Ellis,
Mars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hardrive,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Quantec,
The Dead C,
Warren Ellis,
Kas Product,
Oblivians,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
LL Cool J,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Fat Boys,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.