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 Angola and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Yellowson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalann,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nico,
Joyce Sims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
Technova,
Quadrant,
Q and Not U,
Patti Smith,
Yazoo,
Masters at Work,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Albert Ayler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dave Gahan,
CMW,
the Soft Cell,
Unwound,
DJ Sneak,
Motorama,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Wire,
The Smoke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Deepchord,
Radiohead,
Kevin Saunderson,
Supertramp,
The Index,
Bang On A Can,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cure,
Lower 48,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.