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 Korea South and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Wally Richardson to the techno 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Warren Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smiths,
Kurtis Blow,
The Moody Blues,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Halsall,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
The Detroit Cobras,
Section 25,
Soft Machine,
The Techniques,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Eric Dolphy,
Porter Ricks,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerri Chandler,
Country Teasers,
Dennis Brown,
The Fire Engines,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Banda Bassotti,
The Star Department,
Hardrive,
Cameo,
Second Layer,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scion,
Neil Young,
Au Pairs,
The Mummies,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
F. McDonald,
Joy Division,
Eyeless In Gaza,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scratch Acid,
Quando Quango,
Black Flag,
L. Decosne,
The Birthday Party,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
AZ,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Excepter,
Alison Limerick,
Bauhaus,
Brothers Johnson,
Brick,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.