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 Mozambique and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 JFA to the dance 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Junior Murvin,
Stiv Bators,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Isaac Hayes,
Bush Tetras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glambeats Corp.,
AZ,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sixth Finger,
One Last Wish,
Black Bananas,
Subhumans,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Main Source,
The Happenings,
Animal Collective,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Au Pairs,
Severed Heads,
Zero Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Janne Schatter,
In Retrospect,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fortunes,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
Masters at Work,
Surgeon,
the Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Amon Düül,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ossler,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.