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 Poland and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Green to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ossler,
Altered Images,
Panda Bear,
Stereo Dub,
Rosa Yemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joe Smooth,
Intrusion,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
The Litter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lower 48,
Josef K,
Alison Limerick,
Half Japanese,
Harry Pussy,
Bush Tetras,
Soulsonic Force,
Can,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New York Dolls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
The Blackbyrds,
K-Klass,
Cal Tjader,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Main Source,
Unrelated Segments,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Essential Logic,
Ralphi Rosario,
DJ Style,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hashim,
Rakim,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Görl,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.