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 Comoros and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Alarm Clocks to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Joensuu 1685,
Amazonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Y Pants,
UT,
Blake Baxter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
The United States of America,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Schoolly D,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
Blossom Toes,
The Mojo Men,
Monolake,
Josef K,
Sonny Sharrock,
Metal Thangz,
Duran Duran,
Andrew Hill,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Lynne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
H. Thieme,
Country Teasers,
James White and The Blacks,
Agitation Free,
John Holt,
Shoche,
The Litter,
The Detroit Cobras,
10cc,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerrie Biddell,
Freddie Wadling,
Desert Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Model 500,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
Mr. Review,
A Flock of Seagulls,
kango's stein massive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.