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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angels of Light to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Deadbeat,
The Residents,
The Raincoats,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radiohead,
Bad Manners,
Half Japanese,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pierre Henry,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Ultravox,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Rhythm & Sound,
Model 500,
Lou Reed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
Bill Wells,
Chrome,
Kurtis Blow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bronski Beat,
The Modern Lovers,
Scott Walker,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Easy Going,
Con Funk Shun,
Ohio Players,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
Graham Central Station,
Eurythmics,
Black Bananas,
Brick,
One Last Wish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ludus,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Newcleus,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun City Girls,
Scion,
Althea and Donna,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.