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 Gambia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
a-ha,
New Age Steppers,
Fela Kuti,
The Remains,
Gong,
Audionom,
The Saints,
Davy DMX,
Ossler,
The Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Spoonie Gee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Litter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
The Kinks,
Liliput,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mojo Men,
Eli Mardock,
Inner City,
Desert Stars,
Sällskapet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Offenders,
Bobby Womack,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Holt,
Harmonia,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultra Naté,
Bluetip,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Osbourne,
Supertramp,
Dave Gahan,
AZ,
Suicide,
Scan 7,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maurizio,
48th St. Collective,
Ituana,
The Buckinghams,
Dennis Brown,
Joyce Sims,
Pantaleimon,
Fluxion,
The Doors,
FM Einheit,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.