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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 Sparks to the jazz 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
The Victims,
Don Cherry,
New York Dolls,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lucky Dragons,
Erykah Badu,
Groovy Waters,
The Human League,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jandek,
Henry Cow,
Kas Product,
Infiniti,
Funky Four + One,
Thompson Twins,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Moon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Black Dice,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
Symarip,
The Moody Blues,
Reuben Wilson,
Swell Maps,
Joe Smooth,
Basic Channel,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick Morgan,
John Cale,
Average White Band,
Robert Hood,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Magma,
Oblivians,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brick,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.