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 Paraguay and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Dennis Brown to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
Sällskapet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Ossler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deepchord,
DJ Sneak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Amon Düül II,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
Flipper,
Can,
The Kinks,
Matthew Halsall,
Wolf Eyes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Heaven 17,
Agent Orange,
Tears for Fears,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Trojans,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
These Immortal Souls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Porter Ricks,
Visage,
Radiohead,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Black Moon,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
Hoover,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Underground Resistance,
Monolake,
Interpol,
Idris Muhammad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.