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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Sparks,
Joy Division,
The Zeros,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Connie Case,
Toni Rubio,
The Smoke,
The Gladiators,
UT,
Isaac Hayes,
Aloha Tigers,
Altered Images,
kango's stein massive,
The Five Americans,
Mo-Dettes,
Flipper,
The Monks,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
The Blues Magoos,
MDC,
The Angels of Light,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
Whodini,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alphaville,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Velvet Underground,
Can,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
Basic Channel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerri Chandler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ken Boothe,
Smog,
Minny Pops,
DNA,
Althea and Donna,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wolf Eyes,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vladislav Delay,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
Grandmaster Flash,
Japan,
Bad Manners,
Lalann,
Bang On A Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Neon Judgement,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.