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 Korea South and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Anakelly to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yaz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Godley & Creme,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
Lightning Bolt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Scan 7,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
Altered Images,
The Skatalites,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
Harmonia,
Aswad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Funkadelic,
The Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Todd Terry,
Bill Wells,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hot Snakes,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Smog,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Severed Heads,
Sister Nancy,
ABBA,
Cybotron,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
In Retrospect,
Spandau Ballet,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronan,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
The Grass Roots,
The J.B.'s,
Lakeside,
UT,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.