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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Schoolly D to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Cameo,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Osbourne,
Malaria!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slave,
Moby Grape,
the Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric Copeland,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tommy Roe,
Sex Pistols,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Starr,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
EPMD,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Halsall,
Reagan Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Matthew Bourne,
Jawbox,
Black Pus,
China Crisis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Los Fastidios,
Excepter,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bluetip,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aloha Tigers,
Marc Almond,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Popol Vuh,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arthur Verocai,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
The Tremeloes,
Black Moon,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter & Gordon,
Prince Buster,
Magazine,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.