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 Nigeria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dave Clark Five to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Warsaw,
The Happenings,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pulsallama,
Kaleidoscope,
Soulsonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
Television Personalities,
Bang On A Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Connie Case,
Von Mondo,
Bush Tetras,
Tubeway Army,
Donald Byrd,
Organ,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Minor Threat,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
R.M.O.,
Nirvana,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
Bizarre Inc.,
Qualms,
Fad Gadget,
The Pop Group,
Rekid,
Todd Terry,
Barry Ungar,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
Terry Callier,
Deepchord,
Roger Hodgson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Saints,
Marmalade,
Aaron Thompson,
Stetsasonic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mr. Review,
Negative Approach,
Funky Four + One,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Radiohead,
Swell Maps,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.