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 Singapore and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Pere Ubu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Grey Daturas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gories,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gap Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Massinfluence,
the Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Invisible,
The Human League,
Max Romeo,
Silicon Teens,
The Music Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Q65,
The Residents,
Swell Maps,
Sister Nancy,
Todd Rundgren,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cymande,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barrington Levy,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
The American Breed,
Rekid,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
the Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Foxx,
Marcia Griffiths,
Prince Buster,
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
Crispy Ambulance,
AZ,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yellowson,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.