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 Mauritius and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 electroclash 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Offenders,
Suicide,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
Brick,
The Remains,
The Associates,
Eric Copeland,
Panda Bear,
Moebius,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
Tom Boy,
Gichy Dan,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Neil Young,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mummies,
Q and Not U,
Bizarre Inc.,
Groovy Waters,
MDC,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Starr,
Average White Band,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
The Busters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Mo-Dettes,
Tears for Fears,
Prince Buster,
Thompson Twins,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harmonia,
Deepchord,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.