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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Guru Guru 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Bourne,
Charles Mingus,
Alton Ellis,
Motorama,
The J.B.'s,
Wire,
the Swans,
Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
Massinfluence,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
The Invisible,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
DNA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flash Fearless,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Hashim,
Quadrant,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
Metal Thangz,
Half Japanese,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantaleimon,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Henry Cow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Black Dice,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
R.M.O.,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Sparks,
Peter and Kerry,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Mills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Warren Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Technova,
The Gap Band,
Ituana,
Joey Negro,
Bluetip,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.