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 Tonga and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Yaz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Model 500,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cecil Taylor,
The Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
Minutemen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boz Scaggs,
Kaleidoscope,
Fifty Foot Hose,
PIL,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dark Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
Second Layer,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio,
Jacob Miller,
Eurythmics,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
Interpol,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare,
Babytalk,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Germs,
Wings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anthony Braxton,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Basic Channel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
The Pretty Things,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.