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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-102,
Siglo XX,
Peter & Gordon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rosa Yemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oblivians,
Gabor Szabo,
Thompson Twins,
Fela Kuti,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stetsasonic,
The Mummies,
Suburban Knight,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
The Dirtbombs,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
The Invisible,
Sällskapet,
Eden Ahbez,
Sparks,
Ossler,
Scratch Acid,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
Judy Mowatt,
Don Cherry,
Drexciya,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soul II Soul,
Newcleus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slackers,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.