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 Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Electric Prunes to the rap 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Youth Brigade,
Sound Behaviour,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Jacob Miller,
The Litter,
Delta 5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Iggy Pop,
Aaron Thompson,
Reagan Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moby Grape,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
K-Klass,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lakeside,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Womack,
The Five Americans,
Popol Vuh,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Starr,
Yazoo,
Joensuu 1685,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drexciya,
The Blackbyrds,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dead Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Newcleus,
Magma,
Accadde A,
Blancmange,
The Moody Blues,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.