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 France and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Mills,
Darondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harmonia,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ludus,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
Alice Coltrane,
Tim Buckley,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Christie,
Piero Umiliani,
Judy Mowatt,
Rapeman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
The Moody Blues,
Oblivians,
Model 500,
Connie Case,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pretty Things,
Arcadia,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless,
The Real Kids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grey Daturas,
Motorama,
Organ,
China Crisis,
Franke,
Newcleus,
Joensuu 1685,
Lucky Dragons,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joy Division,
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
Erykah Badu,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.