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 Latvia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cowsills to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lindisfarne,
Scratch Acid,
Circle Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moody Blues,
Tres Demented,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tommy Roe,
Rod Modell,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Livin' Joy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Massinfluence,
L. Decosne,
June of 44,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bush Tetras,
Idris Muhammad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispian St. Peters,
Desert Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tim Buckley,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.