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 Saudi Arabia and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba 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 Fuzztones to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Barry Ungar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Porter Ricks,
Zero Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television,
Oblivians,
John Holt,
Blossom Toes,
Fatback Band,
The Index,
The Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
Chris Corsano,
UT,
Roxette,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DJ Sneak,
Eden Ahbez,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delta 5,
Kas Product,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Martian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Leonard Cohen,
Swans,
Zapp,
The Fall,
The Skatalites,
Dead Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
The Blackbyrds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Index,
Supertramp,
Bluetip,
Quantec,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Litter,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.