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 Malawi and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Grass Roots to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Sound Behaviour,
JFA,
The New Christs,
Quadrant,
The Gladiators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxette,
L. Decosne,
Porter Ricks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monolake,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Index,
The Angels of Light,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Copeland,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Monks,
Slick Rick,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Wyatt,
Section 25,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
cv313,
The Doobie Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Cymande,
Franke,
Aural Exciters,
Quando Quango,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Make Up,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed,
The Names,
Idris Muhammad,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Clarke,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
This Heat,
Mandrill,
Television,
the Association,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Marmalade,
the Human League,
Josef K,
Y Pants,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.