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 Latvia and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Patti Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
MDC,
Visage,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
Symarip,
The Offenders,
Surgeon,
Matthew Bourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Laurel Aitken,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Au Pairs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Agent Orange,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Sheep,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
Dark Day,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Bang On A Can,
Arthur Verocai,
The Searchers,
Godley & Creme,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Dolphy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.