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 Belize and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Cymande to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
K-Klass,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
The Grass Roots,
Leonard Cohen,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
U.S. Maple,
Reuben Wilson,
Steve Hackett,
The Fugs,
The Count Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Cybotron,
Section 25,
Scan 7,
June Days,
Byron Stingily,
Lower 48,
Godley & Creme,
Au Pairs,
The Fire Engines,
Ronan,
Cameo,
Chris & Cosey,
Kayak,
cv313,
Royal Trux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Associates,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
Nico,
Wings,
Eurythmics,
Lalann,
the Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aswad,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gun Club,
Motorama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Busters,
Faraquet,
The Gories,
Stereo Dub,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.