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 Liberia and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 David Bowie 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 ABC to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Black Moon,
The Techniques,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
The Pop Group,
Ohio Players,
Television,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Little Man,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
Boz Scaggs,
Stereo Dub,
Scrapy,
the Swans,
Echospace,
kango's stein massive,
Talk Talk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lyres,
Ornette Coleman,
X-102,
The Zeros,
Quadrant,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gregory Isaacs,
CMW,
Liliput,
Neil Young,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
T.S.O.L.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Schoolly D,
cv313,
AZ,
Anakelly,
Accadde A,
Derrick Morgan,
Sällskapet,
Ken Boothe,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Skarface,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.