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 Tajikistan and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 World's Most to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eddi Front,
Skriet,
Jeff Lynne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Crash Course in Science,
Marvin Gaye,
Panda Bear,
The Wake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thee Headcoats,
Fluxion,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Foxx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Morten Harket,
Infiniti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Ken Boothe,
ABC,
kango's stein massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vainqueur,
Talk Talk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Fela Kuti,
Grauzone,
Parry Music,
Trumans Water,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
Fad Gadget,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
Maleditus Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pagans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
The Techniques,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Starr,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.