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 Botswana and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Anthony Braxton to the electroclash 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Half Japanese,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Near,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terry Callier,
The Evens,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Ohio Players,
Agent Orange,
Marmalade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oneida,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Names,
Warren Ellis,
The Doors,
Rosa Yemen,
X-101,
DJ Style,
Chrome,
Moby Grape,
Joey Negro,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wally Richardson,
Quantec,
The Searchers,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
David McCallum,
Sugar Minott,
The Mummies,
Isaac Hayes,
The Techniques,
John Foxx,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Association,
Nas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Archie Shepp,
CMW,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Slackers,
Judy Mowatt,
The Index,
Ronan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris Corsano,
Anthony Braxton,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
Make Up,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.