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 Iceland and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Marine Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Derrick May,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
Swell Maps,
X-101,
Whodini,
R.M.O.,
The Kinks,
Masters at Work,
Bronski Beat,
Bush Tetras,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Boredoms,
Average White Band,
Sonic Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
New York Dolls,
Mars,
The Birthday Party,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Surgeon,
K-Klass,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
DJ Sneak,
Q65,
Symarip,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Depeche Mode,
Television Personalities,
Donny Hathaway,
The Walker Brothers,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.