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 Serbia and from Johannesburg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Moody Blues to the techno 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
The Black Dice,
Todd Terry,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scientists,
These Immortal Souls,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
Tommy Roe,
Gerry Rafferty,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Althea and Donna,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Mojo Men,
Das Ding,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lungfish,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Radio Birdman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pop Group,
Slave,
Lou Christie,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Iggy Pop,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlback,
Malaria!,
Kerri Chandler,
Q65,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
Max Romeo,
Archie Shepp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boogie Down Productions,
10cc,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Outsiders,
Joe Finger,
Skriet,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.