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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Idris Muhammad,
Khruangbin,
This Heat,
Don Cherry,
Organ,
Mandrill,
The Cramps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
Cameo,
Barrington Levy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bootsy Collins,
Alison Limerick,
Matthew Bourne,
the Association,
The Slits,
Fluxion,
Porter Ricks,
Shuggie Otis,
Audionom,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Buckinghams,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
The Divine Comedy,
CMW,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bill Wells,
Althea and Donna,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
Flash Fearless,
Bush Tetras,
The Raincoats,
Los Fastidios,
Alphaville,
Bobby Sherman,
the Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swans,
Visage,
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dark Day,
Intrusion,
Rotary Connection,
Kerri Chandler,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.