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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Animal Collective to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Golliwogs,
The Techniques,
The Zeros,
Sam Rivers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Motions,
The Pretty Things,
John Lydon,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter & Gordon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brass Construction,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül II,
Throbbing Gristle,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Order,
The Remains,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
Pierre Henry,
X-101,
Boredoms,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Pus,
The Real Kids,
The New Christs,
Nico,
The Gun Club,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gladiators,
Scrapy,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.