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 Bhutan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Young Rascals to the rap 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
John Lydon,
Ponytail,
Sällskapet,
The Offenders,
Groovy Waters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
Bluetip,
Spoonie Gee,
The Trojans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Josef K,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
Isaac Hayes,
The Black Dice,
PIL,
The Last Poets,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sonics,
Roxy Music,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dual Sessions,
The Star Department,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Ten City,
The Wake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Albert Ayler,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Black Sheep,
Scan 7,
Colin Newman,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
The Angels of Light,
Man Parrish,
UT,
James White and The Blacks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mojo Men,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faust,
the Association,
Davy DMX,
Sparks,
In Retrospect,
Fad Gadget,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.