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 Japan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 John Coltrane to the rap 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Godley & Creme,
The Stooges,
Section 25,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yellowson,
The Misunderstood,
The Slackers,
The Remains,
Sonic Youth,
Davy DMX,
Dual Sessions,
Minor Threat,
Lakeside,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Wyatt,
Subhumans,
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Near,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fugazi,
Bush Tetras,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
Scrapy,
Dennis Brown,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Maleditus Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tom Boy,
This Heat,
Agitation Free,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yaz,
Fatback Band,
Sun City Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
R.M.O.,
Bill Wells,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
Flash Fearless,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.