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 Israel and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gories to the rap 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Modern Lovers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
Pantaleimon,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amazonics,
Livin' Joy,
48th St. Collective,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
EPMD,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
the Slits,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare,
Smog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Young Marble Giants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sound,
Mantronix,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Panda Bear,
The Grass Roots,
Swell Maps,
Index,
Gong,
The Searchers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Agitation Free,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
Surgeon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
Ronan,
Barry Ungar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.