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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Ash Ra Tempel to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moby Grape,
The Pretty Things,
Albert Ayler,
The Motions,
The Zeros,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
Neil Young,
Lindisfarne,
Magma,
Organ,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric Copeland,
The Offenders,
Gichy Dan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fortunes,
Chrome,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Vogues,
Skaos,
Aural Exciters,
Roger Hodgson,
Barrington Levy,
Scion,
The Skatalites,
The Beau Brummels,
The Residents,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Ponytail,
Neu!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gong,
Marmalade,
Gregory Isaacs,
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
DNA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
EPMD,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Barracudas,
Gang of Four,
Suicide,
Minny Pops,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Todd Rundgren,
Monolake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Raincoats,
Archie Shepp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
X-102,
The American Breed,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.