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 the UAE and from Bologna.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 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 Fugazi to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Kerri Chandler,
Surgeon,
Y Pants,
Heaven 17,
The Stooges,
Amazonics,
Hardrive,
Laurel Aitken,
Chris Corsano,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roger Hodgson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
Harmonia,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Loose Ends,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Black Bananas,
Chrome,
Public Enemy,
Bill Wells,
Bizarre Inc.,
June of 44,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Neon Judgement,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Franke,
the Fania All-Stars,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Cecil Taylor,
Slave,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Au Pairs,
Faraquet,
Hot Snakes,
The Fall,
Minny Pops,
Roxette,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
The Residents,
Main Source,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
Godley & Creme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sugar Minott,
The Angels of Light,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.