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 Ghana and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe 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 Interpol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
10cc,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cecil Taylor,
Fela Kuti,
Zapp,
Lou Reed,
Scrapy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Associates,
Shoche,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Sherman,
Marine Girls,
The Gladiators,
Henry Cow,
Supertramp,
MC5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aswad,
Ponytail,
Sex Pistols,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
Derrick May,
Youth Brigade,
Sällskapet,
The Busters,
World's Most,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Prince Buster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
These Immortal Souls,
Crooked Eye,
Dennis Brown,
Oneida,
Anakelly,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Goldenarms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Chrome,
Parry Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.