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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Blake Baxter,
Oblivians,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fluxion,
Stereo Dub,
Theoretical Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
Albert Ayler,
Tubeway Army,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
D'Angelo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Maleditus Sound,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
AZ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Crime,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Slits,
Tommy Roe,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Christie,
Y Pants,
The Beau Brummels,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Urselle,
Bang On A Can,
Television Personalities,
The Wake,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alton Ellis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.