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 Ireland and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Qualms to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Animal Collective,
The Residents,
The Cramps,
Depeche Mode,
Von Mondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Moby Grape,
Warren Ellis,
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
Fear,
Gabor Szabo,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
10cc,
Yusef Lateef,
Suburban Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
Bill Near,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Foxx,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Tremeloes,
Davy DMX,
Eric Copeland,
Television Personalities,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed,
The Stooges,
FM Einheit,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Sound Behaviour,
June of 44,
Circle Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Skatalites,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Rakim,
Eli Mardock,
David McCallum,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.