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 Benin and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lou Reed 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Con Funk Shun,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stereo Dub,
Alton Ellis,
Ronan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joey Negro,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Panda Bear,
The Music Machine,
Ludus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Idris Muhammad,
Janne Schatter,
K-Klass,
The Doors,
Leonard Cohen,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
Ituana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scott Walker,
Alphaville,
Fatback Band,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
World's Most,
John Holt,
The Leaves,
Bootsy Collins,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Motorama,
Fluxion,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
Das Ding,
Marmalade,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Whodini,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.