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 Somalia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Donald Fagen 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 Whodini to the rock 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nirvana,
Todd Rundgren,
Brand Nubian,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
The Real Kids,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
Q65,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Scan 7,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Residents,
Das Ding,
World's Most,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Godley & Creme,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can,
Sister Nancy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hasil Adkins,
Laurel Aitken,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed,
Buzzcocks,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
Q and Not U,
Erykah Badu,
Au Pairs,
kango's stein massive,
Rosa Yemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Move,
Connie Case,
Skaos,
Eden Ahbez,
Jawbox,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare,
Delta 5,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Hashim,
Dawn Penn,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.