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 Jamaica and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare 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 Pantaleimon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things,
Gong,
Section 25,
Bob Dylan,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
The Human League,
Black Flag,
The Zeros,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Copeland,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
Chris & Cosey,
Cal Tjader,
Minutemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Graham Central Station,
Pole,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
Oneida,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mummies,
Siglo XX,
Mark Hollis,
Minnie Riperton,
Chris Corsano,
Nik Kershaw,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fuzztones,
Hasil Adkins,
Parry Music,
Organ,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Groovy Waters,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
CMW,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Last Poets,
Negative Approach,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Max Romeo,
Soulsonic Force,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masters at Work,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.