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 Kenya and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 E-Dancer to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
The Gories,
Boogie Down Productions,
Albert Ayler,
Tommy Roe,
Aural Exciters,
The Last Poets,
Agitation Free,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shuggie Otis,
Mo-Dettes,
Sarah Menescal,
Scientists,
Skriet,
The Pop Group,
The Gap Band,
The Fortunes,
The Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Don Cherry,
Khruangbin,
The Buckinghams,
Second Layer,
Faraquet,
Buzzcocks,
Eden Ahbez,
John Holt,
Fatback Band,
Joey Negro,
The Zeros,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monochrome Set,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
Radio Birdman,
The Happenings,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Todd Rundgren,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ponytail,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Max Romeo,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Peter & Gordon,
Blake Baxter,
The Mummies,
Eric Dolphy,
Eli Mardock,
Leonard Cohen,
Dennis Brown,
Lyres,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.