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 Bulgaria and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the crunk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Ten City,
Absolute Body Control,
Ronnie Foster,
Duran Duran,
Q and Not U,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
JFA,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
Tim Buckley,
Half Japanese,
Arcadia,
Wally Richardson,
EPMD,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monochrome Set,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Tubeway Army,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Clarke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Slits,
New York Dolls,
Brothers Johnson,
Pole,
Jeff Lynne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Inner City,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Darondo,
Bluetip,
Funky Four + One,
Letta Mbulu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Evens,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fortunes,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Cymande,
Ludus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.