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 Libya and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Davy DMX to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Yazoo,
Rotary Connection,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
The Detroit Cobras,
Television,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
ABBA,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Skriet,
Don Cherry,
Suicide,
Pussy Galore,
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Make Up,
Bang On A Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kas Product,
Lou Reed,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Delta 5,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
Sandy B,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers,
Fear,
Neil Young,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Alice Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Ossler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Absolute Body Control,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
Chris & Cosey,
Negative Approach,
Kenny Larkin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
Marmalade,
Accadde A,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camouflage,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Swans,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.