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 East Timor and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron 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 Popol Vuh to the dance 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Scion,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
Livin' Joy,
Peter & Gordon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
Henry Cow,
Thee Headcoats,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
the Human League,
Stockholm Monsters,
UT,
Donald Byrd,
Yellowson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Motions,
KRS-One,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Whodini,
The Music Machine,
DNA,
Bluetip,
JFA,
The Pretty Things,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reagan Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-101,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Josef K,
Jeff Mills,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
the Bar-Kays,
Babytalk,
The Fugs,
Surgeon,
Harry Pussy,
David McCallum,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slackers,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.