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 Suriname and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Joe Finger to the jazz 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Nas,
Siglo XX,
Barry Ungar,
Black Moon,
Hoover,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brass Construction,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angry Samoans,
The Star Department,
Pussy Galore,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Niagra,
The Doors,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Can,
the Human League,
Pantaleimon,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
MC5,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Starr,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Bizarre Inc.,
Skaos,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Count Five,
Panda Bear,
Organ,
Hardrive,
T.S.O.L.,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sound,
Icehouse,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cal Tjader,
Skarface,
AZ,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monochrome Set,
Arcadia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sound Behaviour,
Bush Tetras,
The Durutti Column,
The Selecter,
The Young Rascals,
Marvin Gaye,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.