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 Ghana and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gong to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Warsaw,
Average White Band,
T. Rex,
Little Man,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Durutti Column,
John Holt,
Schoolly D,
Jerry's Kids,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Busters,
The Invisible,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Freddie Wadling,
Guru Guru,
Liliput,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Brand Nubian,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
Jeff Mills,
Wolf Eyes,
Ken Boothe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fortunes,
Byron Stingily,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Golliwogs,
kango's stein massive,
Rod Modell,
Pussy Galore,
Rosa Yemen,
Kaleidoscope,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zero Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Alphaville,
Cecil Taylor,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Faust,
Peter and Kerry,
The United States of America,
FM Einheit,
Los Fastidios,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.