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 Estonia and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the jazz 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jandek,
The Cramps,
Joyce Sims,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mars,
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Hardrive,
Outsiders,
10cc,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Yusef Lateef,
Jawbox,
Swell Maps,
Second Layer,
Barry Ungar,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soul II Soul,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
The Cowsills,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
Sarah Menescal,
The Count Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Saints,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grey Daturas,
Minor Threat,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiohead,
The Motions,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Görl,
Unwound,
David McCallum,
Kurtis Blow,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
Livin' Joy,
Cal Tjader,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.