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 Togo and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Boz Scaggs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Siglo XX,
John Foxx,
Magma,
The Names,
Malaria!,
Black Bananas,
Man Parrish,
Kas Product,
Surgeon,
U.S. Maple,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erykah Badu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Association,
Lakeside,
Stereo Dub,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Moby Grape,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Au Pairs,
Idris Muhammad,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Certain Ratio,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
David Axelrod,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Almond,
New Order,
Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
Lee Hazlewood,
Animal Collective,
The Monks,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dark Day,
Sarah Menescal,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Whodini,
a-ha,
Jerry's Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Soul II Soul,
Nils Olav,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.