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 Benin and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Blossom Toes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Can,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Public Enemy,
Massinfluence,
Desert Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amazonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Outsiders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Accadde A,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
OOIOO,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Barracudas,
Robert Görl,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins,
The Skatalites,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Half Japanese,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cheater Slicks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Normal,
Bill Near,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kurtis Blow,
The Move,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Flag,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
Neil Young,
Agitation Free,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ponytail,
Faraquet,
Slave,
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalann,
Grey Daturas,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.