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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Cure to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Associates 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Womack,
Scrapy,
Severed Heads,
ABC,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
Khruangbin,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
Loose Ends,
Motorama,
Cymande,
Shoche,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Massinfluence,
Man Parrish,
Oneida,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Morten Harket,
Nik Kershaw,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barrington Levy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül II,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joe Smooth,
Sparks,
PIL,
The Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
The Gun Club,
Soft Machine,
The Durutti Column,
The Remains,
Dual Sessions,
LL Cool J,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Five Americans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.