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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 H. Thieme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Black Dice,
Gichy Dan,
The Zeros,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eli Mardock,
The Neon Judgement,
The Smiths,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Fad Gadget,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
The Tremeloes,
Dennis Brown,
Essential Logic,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Crooked Eye,
Black Bananas,
Underground Resistance,
Fela Kuti,
The Standells,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
China Crisis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June Days,
Fat Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
Pagans,
New Age Steppers,
Swans,
Marc Almond,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
Flipper,
Talk Talk,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stiv Bators,
Average White Band,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
Althea and Donna,
Flash Fearless,
ABC,
Rod Modell,
Tears for Fears,
Laurel Aitken,
Y Pants,
Ken Boothe,
Marmalade,
Clear Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.