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 Tajikistan and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Kevin Saunderson,
June Days,
Darondo,
Davy DMX,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
The Cure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
Popol Vuh,
Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
Public Image Ltd.,
DNA,
Brothers Johnson,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Half Japanese,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
New Age Steppers,
Aswad,
Clear Light,
Neil Young,
AZ,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
Agitation Free,
Black Flag,
Absolute Body Control,
Soft Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Little Man,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
Graham Central Station,
Dave Gahan,
The Doors,
Wings,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Lyres,
Curtis Mayfield,
Niagra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Black Dice,
Swans,
Au Pairs,
Infiniti,
Harmonia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camouflage,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.