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 Luxembourg and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Agitation Free to the jazz 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Section 25,
Albert Ayler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mandrill,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Moon,
the Normal,
Cymande,
The Star Department,
MDC,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Letta Mbulu,
One Last Wish,
Agitation Free,
Faust,
The Techniques,
Stereo Dub,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hashim,
Graham Central Station,
Charles Mingus,
The Gun Club,
The Barracudas,
Godley & Creme,
New York Dolls,
ABC,
Sixth Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tim Buckley,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nico,
EPMD,
June Days,
Ultravox,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
JFA,
The Black Dice,
The Litter,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Nils Olav,
Nas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Offenders,
Reuben Wilson,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.