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 Samoa and from Madrid.
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 Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Livin' Joy to the punk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
cv313,
Royal Trux,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
Sandy B,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
Nico,
Aswad,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arab on Radar,
Jandek,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quantec,
The Tremeloes,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sound Behaviour,
Monolake,
Skaos,
New Order,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
Schoolly D,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Youth Brigade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Scion,
Bootsy Collins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
Tubeway Army,
Boredoms,
Tom Boy,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Au Pairs,
The United States of America,
UT,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
The Star Department,
Unwound,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.