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 Bhutan and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blossom Toes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Bourne,
MC5,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Vogues,
Pole,
Yusef Lateef,
Marine Girls,
the Sonics,
The Litter,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dirtbombs,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fear,
Lucky Dragons,
Nils Olav,
Adolescents,
Slick Rick,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
Audionom,
Schoolly D,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Anthony Braxton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
Can,
Spoonie Gee,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fugs,
The Tremeloes,
Donald Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Nik Kershaw,
Angry Samoans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gladiators,
The Velvet Underground,
Scott Walker,
Dawn Penn,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Invisible,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
Eurythmics,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blancmange,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.