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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 DJ Sneak to the jazz 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Magazine,
Boredoms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
FM Einheit,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Guru Guru,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Wyatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sonic Youth,
Nas,
T.S.O.L.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABC,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Deakin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ken Boothe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacques Brel,
The Knickerbockers,
Soul II Soul,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Technova,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Reuben Wilson,
Yaz,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eli Mardock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Grey Daturas,
Bootsy Collins,
X-101,
Niagra,
Neil Young,
Pantaleimon,
X-102,
Circle Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Henry Cow,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.