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 Andorra and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aswad to the crunk 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
Q and Not U,
Surgeon,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Symarip,
Radio Birdman,
Bluetip,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
The Raincoats,
Inner City,
Robert Görl,
UT,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed,
Wasted Youth,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
The Tremeloes,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Christie,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
Amazonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
Alice Coltrane,
Colin Newman,
Gabor Szabo,
Interpol,
Blancmange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joey Negro,
Chris & Cosey,
Dennis Brown,
Nirvana,
Peter and Kerry,
The United States of America,
Half Japanese,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.