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 Peru and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thee Headcoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green 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?
Pantaleimon,
Albert Ayler,
Essential Logic,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
Au Pairs,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Invisible,
The Standells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Prince Buster,
The Divine Comedy,
Supertramp,
Kenny Larkin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Michelle Simonal,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Liliput,
Vladislav Delay,
kango's stein massive,
Patti Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Panda Bear,
Matthew Bourne,
Nas,
Marine Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
Iggy Pop,
Gichy Dan,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
ABC,
Smog,
Intrusion,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.