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 Mali and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Groovy Waters to the techno 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
La Düsseldorf,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
the Swans,
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q and Not U,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra,
Sparks,
Moss Icon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
48th St. Collective,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Associates,
The Index,
Pagans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
A Certain Ratio,
Talk Talk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gang Starr,
The Fugs,
Crash Course in Science,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
Magma,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Techniques,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Bill Wells,
One Last Wish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented,
Cymande,
The Leaves,
Mo-Dettes,
Yazoo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Knickerbockers,
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Graham Central Station,
Camouflage,
Gichy Dan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boredoms,
Ituana,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.