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 Burkina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Cluster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Coltrane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gories,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
Junior Murvin,
Vainqueur,
Fela Kuti,
Camouflage,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Remains,
kango's stein massive,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Smooth,
Neil Young,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Malaria!,
L. Decosne,
Second Layer,
Organ,
Trumans Water,
Gang Gang Dance,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
Unwound,
Au Pairs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funky Four + One,
Vladislav Delay,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
CMW,
Babytalk,
Siglo XX,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New York Dolls,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bush Tetras,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mars,
Kerri Chandler,
the Germs,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
Colin Newman,
Eve St. Jones,
Sixth Finger,
The J.B.'s,
Erykah Badu,
Anthony Braxton,
Scratch Acid,
Spandau Ballet,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.