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 Honduras and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
La Düsseldorf,
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ornette Coleman,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
Steve Hackett,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
Massinfluence,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tubeway Army,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jawbox,
John Holt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skarface,
Thee Headcoats,
EPMD,
Dawn Penn,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Beau Brummels,
In Retrospect,
Slick Rick,
New Order,
Jerry's Kids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pole,
Sex Pistols,
The Knickerbockers,
Japan,
OOIOO,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
The Litter,
Iggy Pop,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
Pussy Galore,
Boredoms,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lower 48,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Michelle Simonal,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
Marine Girls,
Rod Modell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.