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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantaleimon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
JFA,
Roger Hodgson,
Sparks,
Amon Düül,
Warren Ellis,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Enemy,
Joyce Sims,
Echospace,
Negative Approach,
Peter & Gordon,
Lower 48,
The Mummies,
The Raincoats,
Trumans Water,
Pantytec,
Cecil Taylor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Newcleus,
Kurtis Blow,
Eddi Front,
Black Bananas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Shoche,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television Personalities,
Yaz,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Smooth,
John Foxx,
Oblivians,
10cc,
Jeff Lynne,
The Buckinghams,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.