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 Iran and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Q and Not U to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The Cure,
Delon & Dalcan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Machine,
Moby Grape,
PIL,
John Coltrane,
Index,
Essential Logic,
Intrusion,
Janne Schatter,
the Bar-Kays,
the Swans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Velvet Underground,
The Walker Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Interpol,
Moebius,
F. McDonald,
The Gladiators,
Warren Ellis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter and Kerry,
Symarip,
The Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
Mars,
New Age Steppers,
The Skatalites,
Q and Not U,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
Scan 7,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
Eric Dolphy,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
The Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chris Corsano,
The Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
Nik Kershaw,
Funkadelic,
The Happenings,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
10cc,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.