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 Nigeria 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Offenders to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Alton Ellis,
L. Decosne,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed,
Make Up,
Jimmy McGriff,
Max Romeo,
World's Most,
The Fortunes,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
The Gap Band,
Roxette,
Don Cherry,
Severed Heads,
The Evens,
The Black Dice,
Fugazi,
La Düsseldorf,
Cluster,
The Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Index,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soulsonic Force,
Warren Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
The Cramps,
DJ Sneak,
Pole,
Man Parrish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
Q and Not U,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mr. Review,
The Kinks,
Reagan Youth,
Television Personalities,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick Morgan,
Nik Kershaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sugar Minott,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.