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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kings Of Tomorrow 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Moon,
Lou Christie,
Scott Walker,
Ronan,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
Connie Case,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Sun City Girls,
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Oneida,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slackers,
Brick,
Byron Stingily,
The Doors,
Magma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Walker Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
Tim Buckley,
The Monks,
Brass Construction,
The Fall,
Robert Görl,
the Germs,
The Litter,
Second Layer,
Boz Scaggs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
L. Decosne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gladiators,
The Searchers,
The Misunderstood,
Crime,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.