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 Macedonia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator 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 Robert Hood to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
10cc,
The Music Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Public Enemy,
Black Pus,
The Blues Magoos,
Hashim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tubeway Army,
Gong,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
Organ,
Neu!,
Magma,
Trumans Water,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Saints,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
The Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Chris & Cosey,
Nirvana,
Cymande,
Delta 5,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Masters at Work,
Susan Cadogan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Youth Brigade,
Oneida,
Johnny Osbourne,
Darondo,
Kaleidoscope,
Anakelly,
Scott Walker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers,
Slave,
Parry Music,
Intrusion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nas,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.