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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 The Shadows of Knight to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül II,
Grey Daturas,
Blake Baxter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Connie Case,
Anthony Braxton,
Adolescents,
Dual Sessions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rekid,
Grauzone,
Inner City,
48th St. Collective,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Minutemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sexual Harrassment,
Panda Bear,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Babytalk,
Theoretical Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Model 500,
Faraquet,
The Black Dice,
UT,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Bob Dylan,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
The Durutti Column,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Hill,
Lindisfarne,
Eric Copeland,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Eve St. Jones,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minor Threat,
Dark Day,
Pierre Henry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Alton Ellis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Index,
Chrome,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.