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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultra Naté to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Brand Nubian,
EPMD,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Offenders,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
Ituana,
Sun Ra,
Freddie Wadling,
Dennis Brown,
Lower 48,
Sandy B,
Von Mondo,
Cal Tjader,
The New Christs,
The Pop Group,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Donald Byrd,
Unwound,
Fugazi,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Hood,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
Dead Boys,
JFA,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Derrick May,
Rosa Yemen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vainqueur,
Bauhaus,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scan 7,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat,
Yellowson,
Juan Atkins,
The Fuzztones,
Gabor Szabo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Görl,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
The Cure,
Black Sheep,
Ralphi Rosario,
U.S. Maple,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.