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 Niger and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Zapp 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Masters at Work,
Hardrive,
Eric Dolphy,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Grauzone,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
Todd Rundgren,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Mars,
Average White Band,
Symarip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Half Japanese,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mojo Men,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Bill Wells,
Vladislav Delay,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yusef Lateef,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quantec,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sixth Finger,
Magazine,
John Holt,
The Birthday Party,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
Mantronix,
Archie Shepp,
Funky Four + One,
Au Pairs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.