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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Das Ding to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
the Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Funkadelic,
Porter Ricks,
Skriet,
the Slits,
Essential Logic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Motorama,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amazonics,
Scan 7,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Index,
Avey Tare,
the Germs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gladiators,
June Days,
Fela Kuti,
Panda Bear,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
Infiniti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Pus,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cluster,
Deakin,
Boredoms,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Rakim,
Zapp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Steve Hackett,
The Five Americans,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Swell Maps,
Arthur Verocai,
Model 500,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.