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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The United States of America,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
the Germs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Jeff Mills,
Underground Resistance,
Deepchord,
B.T. Express,
Loose Ends,
Jacob Miller,
Girls At Our Best!,
Adolescents,
John Cale,
The Star Department,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Lynne,
Scion,
Wire,
Quando Quango,
Bill Wells,
Smog,
Robert Wyatt,
Cluster,
Index,
Lyres,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
Al Stewart,
Curtis Mayfield,
Buzzcocks,
Funky Four + One,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
The Litter,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
Lower 48,
Porter Ricks,
Stiv Bators,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
The Standells,
Piero Umiliani,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Style,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Young Rascals,
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
JFA,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.