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 Ukraine and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
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 James Chance & The Contortions to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Malaria!,
China Crisis,
The Victims,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
The Young Rascals,
the Association,
Josef K,
Cameo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
LL Cool J,
Alison Limerick,
Kool Moe Dee,
Magazine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Metal Thangz,
Agent Orange,
Parry Music,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
Mission of Burma,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Alarm Clocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magma,
Monolake,
Stetsasonic,
Davy DMX,
ABC,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Slackers,
Kas Product,
Neu!,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donny Hathaway,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pere Ubu,
Subhumans,
F. McDonald,
Nils Olav,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.