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 Vietnam and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Jakarta and Stockholm.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Magma to the crunk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Moody Blues,
AZ,
Marc Almond,
Cybotron,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lungfish,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Archie Shepp,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Colin Newman,
The Divine Comedy,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter & Gordon,
MDC,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Siglo XX,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Chris & Cosey,
The Stooges,
OOIOO,
Juan Atkins,
Shoche,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
Steve Hackett,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quadrant,
Michelle Simonal,
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Easy Going,
Eddi Front,
Smog,
The Happenings,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.