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 Mongolia and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 L. Decosne to the jazz 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Monks,
Von Mondo,
The Standells,
Chris Corsano,
Gabor Szabo,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Newcleus,
The Stooges,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Model 500,
The Durutti Column,
Deepchord,
Marmalade,
Quando Quango,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Inner City,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dennis Brown,
Half Japanese,
Altered Images,
Andrew Hill,
The Trojans,
The Misunderstood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Anthony Braxton,
Flipper,
Siglo XX,
The Martian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
Rekid,
The Dead C,
The Raincoats,
Carl Craig,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
Swell Maps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.