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 Guyana and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pantaleimon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Sällskapet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
Smog,
Gang Starr,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
Das Ding,
KRS-One,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Sex Pistols,
The Kinks,
Wally Richardson,
Harmonia,
Ken Boothe,
Aural Exciters,
The Techniques,
Underground Resistance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Pus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cal Tjader,
Magma,
Black Flag,
Ronan,
Erasure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Beau Brummels,
Flash Fearless,
The Modern Lovers,
Unwound,
Nico,
Symarip,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Subhumans,
The Smoke,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Roxette,
Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nas,
The Martian,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.