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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 Organ to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Fela Kuti,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
The Gories,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blancmange,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
Derrick Morgan,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tres Demented,
Ultra Naté,
Nik Kershaw,
Yellowson,
Metal Thangz,
10cc,
Dennis Brown,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
Anakelly,
Camouflage,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Litter,
Sight & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Brass Construction,
Maurizio,
Blossom Toes,
Circle Jerks,
the Slits,
Interpol,
June Days,
Deadbeat,
Banda Bassotti,
Mission of Burma,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
Groovy Waters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Flash Fearless,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.