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 Guatemala and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hashim to the techno 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Gabor Szabo,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
cv313,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Jeff Mills,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Near,
Eric Dolphy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Tears for Fears,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Grass Roots,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fad Gadget,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Jerry's Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fuzztones,
Isaac Hayes,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Walker Brothers,
EPMD,
Susan Cadogan,
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
The Birthday Party,
The Gories,
MC5,
Crash Course in Science,
The Techniques,
Wings,
Skriet,
Charles Mingus,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic,
Robert Görl,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.