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 Venezuela and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lou Christie to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Pantaleimon,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultra Naté,
Popol Vuh,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Model 500,
Section 25,
U.S. Maple,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
Desert Stars,
Bluetip,
Camberwell Now,
Das Ding,
Nils Olav,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Sneak,
Joyce Sims,
Faraquet,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
Negative Approach,
The Fortunes,
K-Klass,
The Fall,
LL Cool J,
Man Eating Sloth,
In Retrospect,
Joy Division,
Flipper,
New York Dolls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bauhaus,
Funky Four + One,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
R.M.O.,
Metal Thangz,
Blancmange,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sugar Minott,
Kevin Saunderson,
Iggy Pop,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Green,
Rakim,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
Minutemen,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.