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 Albania and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Franke,
8 Eyed Spy,
Matthew Halsall,
Lakeside,
Yusef Lateef,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Henry Cow,
Andrew Hill,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
Tom Boy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kas Product,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Basic Channel,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
Marshall Jefferson,
Donny Hathaway,
Brothers Johnson,
The Saints,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lindisfarne,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ossler,
Joe Smooth,
Unwound,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Move,
The Sonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Audionom,
Sandy B,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.