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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 the Human League to the crunk 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Marc Almond,
Minny Pops,
The Dead C,
Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cymande,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Wake,
Jeff Lynne,
Thee Headcoats,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
Bizarre Inc.,
Silicon Teens,
the Association,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Supertramp,
MC5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Clear Light,
Erykah Badu,
Bluetip,
The Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
the Sonics,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
FM Einheit,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Adolescents,
Kas Product,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
Chris Corsano,
Pantaleimon,
Ken Boothe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantytec,
Gong,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
David McCallum,
The Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Fugazi,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.