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 Indonesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flipper to the rap 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boogie Down Productions,
Warren Ellis,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
MDC,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Anakelly,
Urselle,
Bronski Beat,
The Smiths,
L. Decosne,
Ituana,
Graham Central Station,
Skarface,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
Intrusion,
Lower 48,
Faust,
The Offenders,
Tres Demented,
Wally Richardson,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
The Wake,
Rekid,
DJ Style,
John Cale,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Whodini,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magazine,
Carl Craig,
Ludus,
Moss Icon,
a-ha,
This Heat,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thee Headcoats,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
Joey Negro,
Second Layer,
Brand Nubian,
Sun City Girls,
The Move,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mo-Dettes,
R.M.O.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Clarke,
the Association,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.