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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kurtis Blow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Eddi Front,
Banda Bassotti,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Motorama,
Schoolly D,
Skriet,
The Invisible,
Average White Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
The Blues Magoos,
The Beau Brummels,
Ornette Coleman,
The Selecter,
Gichy Dan,
Archie Shepp,
Au Pairs,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
Yellowson,
Bang On A Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Adolescents,
X-102,
the Germs,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Dave Gahan,
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
John Cale,
The United States of America,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Underground Resistance,
Faraquet,
Ohio Players,
Donald Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
a-ha,
Sonic Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
In Retrospect,
kango's stein massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Audionom,
Section 25,
Pole,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.