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 Croatia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Donny Hathaway to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Starr,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Rufus Thomas,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Pagans,
Cal Tjader,
Jeff Mills,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Association,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rotary Connection,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
Procol Harum,
Warsaw,
The Monochrome Set,
Supertramp,
Rosa Yemen,
Donald Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Funky Four + One,
Niagra,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerri Chandler,
Circle Jerks,
The United States of America,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Khruangbin,
Patti Smith,
The Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skriet,
June Days,
Brass Construction,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
Isaac Hayes,
New York Dolls,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiohead,
Yazoo,
Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Television Personalities,
Frankie Knuckles,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
The Grass Roots,
Monolake,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.