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 Maldives and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Gabor Szabo to the punk 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Agent Orange,
Soft Machine,
Schoolly D,
Accadde A,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
Arab on Radar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Lydon,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Angels of Light,
These Immortal Souls,
Hot Snakes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Alton Ellis,
UT,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Easy Going,
The Motions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Deakin,
Boredoms,
Wire,
Metal Thangz,
Visage,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Essential Logic,
Chris & Cosey,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Sherman,
Mission of Burma,
The Sound,
cv313,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MC5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jerry's Kids,
Sex Pistols,
Morten Harket,
Joe Smooth,
Aswad,
The Last Poets,
Camberwell Now,
The Birthday Party,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Tremeloes,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.