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 Albania and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Blues Magoos to the grime 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Max Romeo,
The Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore,
Main Source,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Maleditus Sound,
MC5,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
The Slits,
Hasil Adkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Sherman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos,
Ossler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Underground Resistance,
Q65,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Adolescents,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Durutti Column,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs,
Ten City,
Silicon Teens,
Delta 5,
Ultravox,
Liliput,
Swans,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
Wolf Eyes,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
Tommy Roe,
Rapeman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Altered Images,
Drexciya,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Swans,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.