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 Chad and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Fugazi,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hashim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiohead,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Freddie Wadling,
The United States of America,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Hot Snakes,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Duran Duran,
Stetsasonic,
Sound Behaviour,
Magma,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
Bill Near,
Quantec,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
MC5,
Bob Dylan,
Absolute Body Control,
Monolake,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Average White Band,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Associates,
Brass Construction,
Cymande,
Bang On A Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.