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 Grenada and from Delhi.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ornette Coleman 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang 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?
Trumans Water,
The Black Dice,
Pierre Henry,
Mandrill,
Deakin,
the Bar-Kays,
Kaleidoscope,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Delon & Dalcan,
UT,
Grandmaster Flash,
Urselle,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fuzztones,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
The Gories,
Technova,
Quadrant,
Clear Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Darondo,
Hot Snakes,
Quando Quango,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultra Naté,
Wings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Fela Kuti,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall,
Main Source,
The Kinks,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.