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 Congo and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Traffic Nightmare,
Faraquet,
the Swans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
a-ha,
June of 44,
Alphaville,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Young Rascals,
Radiohead,
Nick Fraelich,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Iggy Pop,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Popol Vuh,
Roxy Music,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Oneida,
Cameo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Angels of Light,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
cv313,
Carl Craig,
The Happenings,
Ossler,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skaos,
Camberwell Now,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Supertramp,
John Lydon,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronnie Foster,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Television,
Avey Tare,
Ponytail,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minor Threat,
Kurtis Blow,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.