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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Los Fastidios to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 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 The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Barbara Tucker,
the Germs,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
Gabor Szabo,
MDC,
Television,
Cameo,
Erasure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Section 25,
Pylon,
Jacob Miller,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
The Moody Blues,
Yusef Lateef,
Camberwell Now,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Connie Case,
Cheater Slicks,
Eve St. Jones,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
ABC,
The Black Dice,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lucky Dragons,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blake Baxter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Green,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed,
Q65,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dawn Penn,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donny Hathaway,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Young Rascals,
Crooked Eye,
the Swans,
Archie Shepp,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.