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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
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 Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ken Boothe to the dance 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joe Finger,
Public Enemy,
Warsaw,
Massinfluence,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
cv313,
Wire,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sarah Menescal,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
This Heat,
Audionom,
Sight & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Ornette Coleman,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharoah Sanders,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mark Hollis,
The Saints,
Au Pairs,
Parry Music,
The Tremeloes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Five Americans,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rekid,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Swell Maps,
Aswad,
Bush Tetras,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
Sandy B,
Hot Snakes,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.