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 Qatar and from Accra.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 David Bowie 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 Pierre Henry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Outsiders,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gun Club,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lungfish,
U.S. Maple,
MDC,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy Collins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funkadelic,
Groovy Waters,
Minnie Riperton,
Freddie Wadling,
Tubeway Army,
Grey Daturas,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Rotary Connection,
John Foxx,
The American Breed,
Ultravox,
Toni Rubio,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Anakelly,
The Raincoats,
The Dead C,
DNA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Prince Buster,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
KRS-One,
Slick Rick,
Deadbeat,
The Doors,
Deepchord,
Section 25,
Soft Machine,
Desert Stars,
The Slackers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blackbyrds,
The United States of America,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.