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 Bahrain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gladiators,
DJ Sneak,
Aaron Thompson,
Massinfluence,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Junior Murvin,
The J.B.'s,
Desert Stars,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Yusef Lateef,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Move,
Tears for Fears,
Mars,
Parry Music,
Magazine,
The Stooges,
Ludus,
Amon Düül,
Anakelly,
The Cramps,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Black Dice,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
Animal Collective,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Faraquet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sandy B,
Basic Channel,
Monks,
CMW,
Eli Mardock,
Supertramp,
Rotary Connection,
Kenny Larkin,
Connie Case,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Blancmange,
Motorama,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-102,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
Letta Mbulu,
Cal Tjader,
the Germs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.