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 Gambia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Gang of Four to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Accadde A,
Stiv Bators,
Wings,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
The Residents,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric Dolphy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Henry Cow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Television,
Janne Schatter,
a-ha,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
Liliput,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
The Monochrome Set,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Coltrane,
ABC,
Slave,
Pantytec,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Lyres,
Tubeway Army,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The United States of America,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Moon,
The Busters,
MDC,
Parry Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Chris Corsano,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Skarface,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.