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 Suriname and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Boz Scaggs,
Toni Rubio,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Germs,
E-Dancer,
Prince Buster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Duran Duran,
Lower 48,
Flipper,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neu!,
Nik Kershaw,
The American Breed,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
Fluxion,
Con Funk Shun,
kango's stein massive,
Jeff Lynne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Green,
The Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Almond,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radio Birdman,
The Fugs,
Interpol,
Joy Division,
Black Flag,
Metal Thangz,
Wolf Eyes,
Clear Light,
Kas Product,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Q65,
Gong,
Lindisfarne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Animal Collective,
Excepter,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.