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 Australia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Oneida to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
UT,
Ituana,
Qualms,
Donny Hathaway,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
New Age Steppers,
The Moody Blues,
Half Japanese,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Trojans,
Popol Vuh,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cowsills,
Soul II Soul,
The Gladiators,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
The Human League,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vainqueur,
X-101,
June of 44,
Bill Wells,
Nas,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Zeros,
The Divine Comedy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Flag,
Lebanon Hanover,
China Crisis,
Sight & Sound,
Pylon,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Whodini,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.