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 Cyprus and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Magazine,
Malaria!,
B.T. Express,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed,
The Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Walker Brothers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
Echospace,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ronnie Foster,
Wally Richardson,
Rhythm & Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lakeside,
The Cramps,
John Foxx,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Eddi Front,
Pantaleimon,
The Martian,
The Raincoats,
The Index,
Minny Pops,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jandek,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
Mr. Review,
Monks,
The Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
Althea and Donna,
Shuggie Otis,
Rotary Connection,
John Cale,
Lou Christie,
Bob Dylan,
Dark Day,
R.M.O.,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.