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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Albert Ayler to the rock 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Connie Case,
Donald Byrd,
Simply Red,
Harmonia,
Suicide,
The Busters,
The Victims,
Supertramp,
Groovy Waters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alton Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
The Music Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Prince Buster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
EPMD,
Livin' Joy,
Inner City,
World's Most,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Visage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Rundgren,
Godley & Creme,
Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quantec,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Agitation Free,
The Names,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
Danielle Patucci,
Archie Shepp,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Christie,
New Order,
Nico,
T. Rex,
The Young Rascals,
Ronan,
Popol Vuh,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.