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 Seychelles and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Holger Czukay 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 Supertramp to the rap 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter 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?
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Maurizio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dead C,
Soft Machine,
Magazine,
Wasted Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Maleditus Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
Boredoms,
Gang Green,
The Fugs,
One Last Wish,
Scion,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Negative Approach,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Parry Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rosa Yemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Cluster,
The Evens,
Second Layer,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Danielle Patucci,
X-102,
Nick Fraelich,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Youth Brigade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
Quantec,
Interpol,
Sparks,
The Monochrome Set,
The Index,
LL Cool J,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.