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 Egypt and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Black Pus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
JFA,
Yellowson,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Con Funk Shun,
Marmalade,
The New Christs,
The Durutti Column,
Monolake,
Rapeman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Lakeside,
Q65,
Funky Four + One,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Smog,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Josef K,
Scan 7,
D'Angelo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bill Near,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sound,
Colin Newman,
Animal Collective,
B.T. Express,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.