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 Monaco and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green 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?
Terry Callier,
Suburban Knight,
Popol Vuh,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
Minny Pops,
John Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Piero Umiliani,
Funkadelic,
Fluxion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Standells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Banda Bassotti,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erykah Badu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Qualms,
Scion,
EPMD,
Spandau Ballet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
This Heat,
Kayak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wings,
The Motions,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Make Up,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Can,
Television Personalities,
Scrapy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Lynne,
Oblivians,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tubeway Army,
Con Funk Shun,
The Count Five,
B.T. Express,
The Residents,
Hardrive,
Black Pus,
Byron Stingily,
the Normal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.