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 Saudi Arabia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Howard Jones to the electroclash 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Roxette,
Hardrive,
Khruangbin,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Mr. Review,
Negative Approach,
Tubeway Army,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Wally Richardson,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
K-Klass,
Ohio Players,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suburban Knight,
Hot Snakes,
Livin' Joy,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Reuben Wilson,
Roxy Music,
Quando Quango,
Kaleidoscope,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Görl,
Kurtis Blow,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barry Ungar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Talk Talk,
David Bowie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
Faust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bluetip,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rapeman,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Slits,
Clear Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.