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 St Lucia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 Don Cherry to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Age Steppers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Desert Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Bill Near,
Sex Pistols,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Christie,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fat Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Talk Talk,
Deakin,
The Seeds,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grey Daturas,
Ohio Players,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Fatback Band,
The Leaves,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Alison Limerick,
Darondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.