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 Fiji and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 kango's stein massive to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barry Ungar,
Average White Band,
The Star Department,
Joensuu 1685,
Sarah Menescal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rekid,
Arab on Radar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dorothy Ashby,
Donald Byrd,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Move,
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Section 25,
Godley & Creme,
Shoche,
Byron Stingily,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
X-102,
The Skatalites,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio,
Gang of Four,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
Metal Thangz,
B.T. Express,
The Sonics,
Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Slave,
Rotary Connection,
X-101,
Andrew Hill,
Scrapy,
Los Fastidios,
Marvin Gaye,
The Misunderstood,
The Seeds,
Newcleus,
Marine Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hoover,
Lucky Dragons,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.