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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Saints to the grunge 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Faraquet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
K-Klass,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Victims,
John Cale,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
Ronan,
Pylon,
Inner City,
Wings,
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Marmalade,
Mandrill,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Prince Buster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cybotron,
Maurizio,
Los Fastidios,
Quando Quango,
Essential Logic,
Sound Behaviour,
Lou Christie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sandy B,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Letta Mbulu,
Khruangbin,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Thompson Twins,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül,
E-Dancer,
Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
One Last Wish,
Robert Görl,
Pulsallama,
Section 25,
Barbara Tucker,
Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.