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 Nicaragua 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 June Days to the disco 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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Whodini,
Accadde A,
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
John Holt,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
48th St. Collective,
Babytalk,
Wings,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ituana,
Sugar Minott,
The Moleskins,
Soul II Soul,
The Monochrome Set,
Underground Resistance,
Marine Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kayak,
The Pretty Things,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Black Dice,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fortunes,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Visage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Matthew Halsall,
China Crisis,
Altered Images,
MDC,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Swell Maps,
AZ,
Pantytec,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Archie Shepp,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.