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 Senegal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 The Pretty Things to the grunge 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Gabor Szabo,
Model 500,
Qualms,
Aswad,
Brand Nubian,
Sam Rivers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Sheep,
Matthew Halsall,
The Moody Blues,
Maurizio,
Flipper,
Tom Boy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fatback Band,
Fluxion,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric Copeland,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bauhaus,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
Pole,
The Smoke,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
Henry Cow,
Make Up,
Faraquet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
The Martian,
Babytalk,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Doors,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronnie Foster,
Deakin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Associates,
Sound Behaviour,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Piero Umiliani,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
The Electric Prunes,
Joey Negro,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.