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 Mozambique and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Animal Collective to the funk 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
PIL,
Carl Craig,
Aural Exciters,
Marine Girls,
The Techniques,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
Trumans Water,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chris Corsano,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gun Club,
Henry Cow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Malaria!,
Pulsallama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television,
Organ,
Hardrive,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxy Music,
The Moleskins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flash Fearless,
X-102,
Brick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Reuben Wilson,
T. Rex,
Pere Ubu,
Porter Ricks,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronnie Foster,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Althea and Donna,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.