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 China and from Jakarta.
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 Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Pere Ubu,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
Peter & Gordon,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Techniques,
Stetsasonic,
Morten Harket,
John Cale,
Jacques Brel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Stooges,
Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tom Boy,
Rapeman,
The Doors,
Don Cherry,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
The Offenders,
Ten City,
Severed Heads,
Basic Channel,
Faraquet,
One Last Wish,
Hasil Adkins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Fad Gadget,
Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lucky Dragons,
Blake Baxter,
Josef K,
EPMD,
The Mummies,
Man Parrish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
Lebanon Hanover,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
OOIOO,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.