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 Micronesia and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Carl Craig to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
The Trojans,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter & Gordon,
Minutemen,
Jacques Brel,
Silicon Teens,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
The Kinks,
These Immortal Souls,
Alice Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Groovy Waters,
The Skatalites,
Banda Bassotti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lakeside,
Pole,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Audionom,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Hood,
Royal Trux,
Black Bananas,
Ice-T,
The Smiths,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed,
The Doors,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Germs,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
Intrusion,
Organ,
Cecil Taylor,
Radio Birdman,
The Knickerbockers,
Nik Kershaw,
John Foxx,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Nas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television Personalities,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Pus,
Tim Buckley,
Nico,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.