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 Sweden and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Urselle,
Gichy Dan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
China Crisis,
Camberwell Now,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Janne Schatter,
Terry Callier,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
Black Sheep,
Nico,
Cameo,
John Lydon,
Minny Pops,
Prince Buster,
Tubeway Army,
Motorama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Starr,
Skarface,
Moss Icon,
Lyres,
Jeff Mills,
Gastr Del Sol,
LL Cool J,
Radiohead,
10cc,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
Absolute Body Control,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Johnny Osbourne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
June Days,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Susan Cadogan,
The Names,
EPMD,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
David Axelrod,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.