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 Dominica and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Whodini,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Suburban Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
The Doors,
Colin Newman,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Thompson Twins,
Darondo,
Rod Modell,
Joensuu 1685,
PIL,
Los Fastidios,
Niagra,
Sonic Youth,
Bill Near,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
Royal Trux,
the Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bang On A Can,
The Trojans,
Brothers Johnson,
L. Decosne,
Gang of Four,
Q65,
Robert Hood,
Surgeon,
Jerry's Kids,
Depeche Mode,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crash Course in Science,
Sister Nancy,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
Blake Baxter,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.