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 Liberia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun Ra to the grime 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Human League,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Byron Stingily,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ossler,
The Fall,
Kas Product,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Aswad,
Scrapy,
Yaz,
The Fuzztones,
Minutemen,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Morten Harket,
Eddi Front,
B.T. Express,
Negative Approach,
Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Warren Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arthur Verocai,
Drexciya,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Country Joe & The Fish,
World's Most,
The Stooges,
A Certain Ratio,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ronan,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arcadia,
Japan,
Sonic Youth,
Motorama,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
Pylon,
L. Decosne,
Scratch Acid,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.