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 Gambia and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Archie Shepp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantytec,
Hardrive,
The Beau Brummels,
Ken Boothe,
Sarah Menescal,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Litter,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
Excepter,
Max Romeo,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Kas Product,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Nik Kershaw,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joey Negro,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül II,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Wake,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
the Bar-Kays,
Mo-Dettes,
10cc,
The Count Five,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fat Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Vladislav Delay,
Stetsasonic,
Youth Brigade,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Green,
Andrew Hill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Accadde A,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators,
Visage,
Magma,
Animal Collective,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.