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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yellowson,
Skaos,
DJ Style,
The Dead C,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Laurel Aitken,
The Real Kids,
Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
Eric Dolphy,
Godley & Creme,
OOIOO,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Jacques Brel,
The Smoke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Von Mondo,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Hot Snakes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
B.T. Express,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare,
Slave,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Nirvana,
Pere Ubu,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rekid,
Don Cherry,
The Evens,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Spoonie Gee,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
Oblivians,
The Fugs,
Marvin Gaye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.