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 Yemen and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the punk 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Unrelated Segments,
The Knickerbockers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter and Kerry,
Agitation Free,
Nico,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Leaves,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
June Days,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang of Four,
Kenny Larkin,
Charles Mingus,
Fear,
Mark Hollis,
Joe Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
David Bowie,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Young Marble Giants,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
Rod Modell,
The Cowsills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Whodini,
Bob Dylan,
Pantaleimon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alphaville,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joey Negro,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Chrome,
The Golliwogs,
Von Mondo,
Make Up,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Starr,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Hill,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sandy B,
The Seeds,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.