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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 David Axelrod to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
The Knickerbockers,
Q and Not U,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dead C,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fugs,
Funky Four + One,
Scan 7,
World's Most,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Sneak,
Idris Muhammad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Womack,
Alton Ellis,
Oblivians,
Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Model 500,
The Offenders,
Pussy Galore,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express,
Fatback Band,
Television,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
Eurythmics,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
Iggy Pop,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Happenings,
Saccharine Trust,
Electric Prunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronan,
Kaleidoscope,
The J.B.'s,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
a-ha,
Lungfish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.