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 Djibouti and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Johnny Osbourne 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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Misunderstood,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Almond,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sonics,
Urselle,
The Happenings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Michelle Simonal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gun Club,
Electric Prunes,
Khruangbin,
Main Source,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Womack,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
Scientists,
Panda Bear,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drexciya,
The Beau Brummels,
kango's stein massive,
Wally Richardson,
Lyres,
Arthur Verocai,
Skaos,
The J.B.'s,
La Düsseldorf,
Siglo XX,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.