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 Germany and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Bluetip,
Babytalk,
Tommy Roe,
Cal Tjader,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Zero Boys,
T. Rex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minor Threat,
Massinfluence,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
Mandrill,
Gichy Dan,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
the Soft Cell,
Reagan Youth,
Procol Harum,
D'Angelo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Davy DMX,
Scan 7,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Copeland,
The Count Five,
Juan Atkins,
Moby Grape,
The Neon Judgement,
Fear,
Franke,
Electric Prunes,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
Masters at Work,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
The American Breed,
Magma,
Guru Guru,
Drexciya,
the Germs,
The Gap Band,
X-101,
Pagans,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Prince Buster,
Bush Tetras,
Panda Bear,
Patti Smith,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.