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 Laos and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the punk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Drexciya,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Quadrant,
Average White Band,
E-Dancer,
Tom Boy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funky Four + One,
Jimmy McGriff,
Surgeon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Qualms,
Alphaville,
FM Einheit,
Suburban Knight,
Deepchord,
LL Cool J,
48th St. Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gories,
Cybotron,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Parrish,
Mars,
Graham Central Station,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Parry Music,
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
Mantronix,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Model 500,
Drive Like Jehu,
Essential Logic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Half Japanese,
Peter & Gordon,
Brass Construction,
Ronan,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Trojans,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.