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 Norway and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 E-Dancer to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters 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?
CMW,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Fluxion,
Tres Demented,
Dennis Brown,
The Angels of Light,
Isaac Hayes,
the Association,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Buckinghams,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter & Gordon,
Au Pairs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Archie Shepp,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Human League,
Brand Nubian,
Cameo,
Todd Terry,
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Hill,
The Martian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bad Manners,
Todd Rundgren,
Simply Red,
The Sonics,
Minny Pops,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Intrusion,
The Real Kids,
Gong,
Skarface,
Fat Boys,
Darondo,
Lightning Bolt,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Agitation Free,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.