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 Marshall Islands 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Invisible,
UT,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Underground Resistance,
The Sonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Associates,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Babytalk,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Sneak,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
Mad Mike,
Trumans Water,
The Stooges,
Tears for Fears,
The Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tubeway Army,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
Fatback Band,
The Vogues,
Camberwell Now,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
Aswad,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Basic Channel,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Trojans,
Unrelated Segments,
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Chrome,
Wolf Eyes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
These Immortal Souls,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.