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 Greece and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Detroit Cobras to the rap 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Bad Manners,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Fraelich,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül,
Pagans,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yaz,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
These Immortal Souls,
Jandek,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fugs,
The Selecter,
The Techniques,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alice Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Jacques Brel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
Darondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Nils Olav,
Tears for Fears,
Delta 5,
Blossom Toes,
Terry Callier,
Masters at Work,
Quando Quango,
The Stooges,
FM Einheit,
Section 25,
Japan,
Can,
The Monochrome Set,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Theoretical Girls,
Silicon Teens,
OOIOO,
Smog,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.