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 Czech Republic and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sam Rivers to the jazz 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donny Hathaway,
Symarip,
Angry Samoans,
Sonic Youth,
Quantec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Graham Central Station,
Crooked Eye,
Guru Guru,
Flipper,
Pantytec,
World's Most,
Mars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erykah Badu,
Aloha Tigers,
The Skatalites,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Durutti Column,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gichy Dan,
In Retrospect,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
E-Dancer,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
New Order,
Agitation Free,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
Carl Craig,
The Move,
Chris & Cosey,
X-102,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
Pulsallama,
Technova,
Sam Rivers,
Aural Exciters,
John Lydon,
The Mojo Men,
Ohio Players,
Zapp,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.