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 Costa Rica and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 Connie Case to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
David Bowie,
Brand Nubian,
The Buckinghams,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Holt,
Second Layer,
Bizarre Inc.,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sight & Sound,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stetsasonic,
Ronnie Foster,
Hasil Adkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pantytec,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kurtis Blow,
Sparks,
Aural Exciters,
Intrusion,
Echospace,
Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
Joey Negro,
Pantaleimon,
Donald Byrd,
Quando Quango,
Fat Boys,
Bang On A Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eve St. Jones,
Minny Pops,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerri Chandler,
OOIOO,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ohio Players,
The Divine Comedy,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.