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 Mauritania and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Eli Mardock to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
ABBA,
Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scientists,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
The Star Department,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Niagra,
The Pretty Things,
Gong,
Camberwell Now,
Blancmange,
Marmalade,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Grass Roots,
the Fania All-Stars,
OOIOO,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
Zero Boys,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
MC5,
Kool Moe Dee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Bar-Kays,
The Knickerbockers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lyres,
Aaron Thompson,
Tim Buckley,
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
The Techniques,
Hasil Adkins,
Judy Mowatt,
Delon & Dalcan,
cv313,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
This Heat,
Buzzcocks,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.