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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 the Sonics to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun City Girls,
Procol Harum,
Bang On A Can,
PIL,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Enemy,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Joy Division,
Skaos,
Interpol,
Shoche,
The Dead C,
Soul Sonic Force,
Absolute Body Control,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siglo XX,
Alton Ellis,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Audionom,
The Wake,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sound,
Darondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rapeman,
the Germs,
Cecil Taylor,
Soul II Soul,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Isaac Hayes,
Ituana,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.