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 Palau and from New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 Soft Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Slits,
Crooked Eye,
B.T. Express,
Tim Buckley,
Brothers Johnson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
The Evens,
Lightning Bolt,
Cymande,
Supertramp,
Dave Gahan,
the Sonics,
Sight & Sound,
PIL,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Red Krayola,
Ronan,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crime,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Average White Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultra Naté,
Au Pairs,
Clear Light,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Robert Hood,
The American Breed,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
The Gories,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Motions,
Magazine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tom Boy,
The Mojo Men,
Al Stewart,
Pere Ubu,
Con Funk Shun,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harmonia,
Yusef Lateef,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
kango's stein massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
Rosa Yemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Almond,
Niagra,
Excepter,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.