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 Jamaica and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Gun Club to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
The Happenings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
R.M.O.,
Little Man,
The Angels of Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Make Up,
Vainqueur,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Leaves,
The Names,
The Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
Crash Course in Science,
Wings,
Ronan,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Moody Blues,
Second Layer,
Alphaville,
Sarah Menescal,
Brick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sixth Finger,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra,
PIL,
Neu!,
Audionom,
Faraquet,
The Searchers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Lynne,
Kaleidoscope,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.