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 Accra.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
R.M.O.,
The Fortunes,
Ossler,
Loose Ends,
Second Layer,
Basic Channel,
Delta 5,
Cluster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
Mad Mike,
The Moody Blues,
Mandrill,
Peter and Kerry,
Monks,
Section 25,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
Robert Görl,
The Real Kids,
Sugar Minott,
JFA,
Lindisfarne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Essential Logic,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
Eli Mardock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barbara Tucker,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick May,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Connie Case,
Dennis Brown,
Monolake,
Whodini,
Roxette,
CMW,
Morten Harket,
Porter Ricks,
Wally Richardson,
Kurtis Blow,
Talk Talk,
Deadbeat,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
Schoolly D,
Flamin' Groovies,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.