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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 ABBA to the electroclash 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Babytalk,
The Invisible,
The Electric Prunes,
Das Ding,
KRS-One,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fugs,
Television,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Smog,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Subhumans,
Minny Pops,
The Angels of Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Walker Brothers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
MC5,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Nick Fraelich,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Steve Hackett,
Bill Wells,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monochrome Set,
Flipper,
Quantec,
The Names,
Suicide,
June of 44,
The Toasters,
PIL,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
Au Pairs,
Sällskapet,
Ken Boothe,
The Grass Roots,
Scientists,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Swell Maps,
FM Einheit,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.