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 Libya and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Minny Pops to the dance 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Public Enemy,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
kango's stein massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Juan Atkins,
John Foxx,
Barry Ungar,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Sneak,
Zero Boys,
Massinfluence,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
Lightning Bolt,
Aloha Tigers,
Thompson Twins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Whodini,
The Fuzztones,
Sandy B,
The Sound,
Sex Pistols,
KRS-One,
China Crisis,
Cymande,
OOIOO,
Fat Boys,
Buzzcocks,
Deadbeat,
Mandrill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crime,
Lindisfarne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Faraquet,
Deepchord,
Skaos,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Zeros,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.