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 Monaco and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Scott Walker to the techno 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Clarke,
JFA,
Donald Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Minny Pops,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Brick,
Index,
Reuben Wilson,
The Blackbyrds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alice Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
The Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hardrive,
Heaven 17,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Von Mondo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
Interpol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alison Limerick,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
Colin Newman,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Monks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
World's Most,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Index,
Black Pus,
Second Layer,
Robert Wyatt,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
Intrusion,
The Kinks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.