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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Names,
Sight & Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
Letta Mbulu,
Grey Daturas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Althea and Donna,
Soul Sonic Force,
Altered Images,
Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Raincoats,
Marine Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Blues Magoos,
Yellowson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare,
Magma,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Minny Pops,
Crooked Eye,
Curtis Mayfield,
La Düsseldorf,
Anthony Braxton,
Jandek,
Janne Schatter,
Television Personalities,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flipper,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fat Boys,
B.T. Express,
Absolute Body Control,
Neil Young,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.