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 Australia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thompson Twins to the rap 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Subhumans,
Soul II Soul,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fatback Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fluxion,
Grauzone,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
Tim Buckley,
Motorama,
Kas Product,
Piero Umiliani,
Schoolly D,
Pierre Henry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nirvana,
Little Man,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
The Pop Group,
Eric Dolphy,
The Names,
Ten City,
Underground Resistance,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
EPMD,
Carl Craig,
Sparks,
MC5,
Dave Gahan,
Mo-Dettes,
Fad Gadget,
Rotary Connection,
Adolescents,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Scratch Acid,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.