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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the electroclash 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Infiniti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
Ronan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
The Raincoats,
the Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Beau Brummels,
Inner City,
Marine Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fluxion,
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
Mission of Burma,
Sandy B,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Technova,
Barclay James Harvest,
MC5,
The Wake,
Ronnie Foster,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlback,
10cc,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Ossler,
Rufus Thomas,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.