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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lindisfarne to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terry Callier,
Boz Scaggs,
Lungfish,
Deakin,
The Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
Das Ding,
Half Japanese,
Alice Coltrane,
Schoolly D,
Excepter,
Ice-T,
Liliput,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Görl,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
D'Angelo,
Scott Walker,
Arcadia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Beau Brummels,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
The Modern Lovers,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
Prince Buster,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
June Days,
Curtis Mayfield,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
Tres Demented,
Swell Maps,
John Foxx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hashim,
The Skatalites,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.