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 Burundi and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Avey Tare to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
Suburban Knight,
Shuggie Otis,
Lucky Dragons,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Y Pants,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
The Gories,
Sandy B,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boredoms,
Dead Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Starr,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
World's Most,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sound,
Pagans,
Sam Rivers,
Anakelly,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
Mars,
Sarah Menescal,
Niagra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
The Walker Brothers,
T.S.O.L.,
Eli Mardock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bauhaus,
Television,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nick Fraelich,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brand Nubian,
Rekid,
Slick Rick,
Animal Collective,
Sparks,
Tubeway Army,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.