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 Grenada and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Underground Resistance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nas,
Outsiders,
John Cale,
Grauzone,
Black Bananas,
Patti Smith,
Grey Daturas,
The Saints,
Quantec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Invisible,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-102,
UT,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
Ituana,
Second Layer,
T.S.O.L.,
Tubeway Army,
10cc,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
Jawbox,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Dennis Brown,
The Wake,
Bush Tetras,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare,
David McCallum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Ultravox,
Rapeman,
Letta Mbulu,
Alison Limerick,
Lungfish,
Bluetip,
Interpol,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon,
Davy DMX,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.