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 Afghanistan and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Christs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Echospace,
Scratch Acid,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Evens,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
Parry Music,
Oblivians,
Lightning Bolt,
Model 500,
Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Piero Umiliani,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
Marc Almond,
The Music Machine,
Andrew Hill,
Aloha Tigers,
Amon Düül II,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
Funkadelic,
Fela Kuti,
Yaz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yazoo,
Alton Ellis,
The Techniques,
Hasil Adkins,
Crooked Eye,
Von Mondo,
Brick,
Fear,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
Laurel Aitken,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Alphaville,
Deakin,
Groovy Waters,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.