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 South Sudan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
World's Most,
Dual Sessions,
Easy Going,
Smog,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
The Cramps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Johnny Osbourne,
David McCallum,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lightning Bolt,
Cymande,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Divine Comedy,
ABC,
Brand Nubian,
The Five Americans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mad Mike,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter & Gordon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
The Durutti Column,
Laurel Aitken,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Scion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacques Brel,
This Heat,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Fugazi,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
The J.B.'s,
Monolake,
Groovy Waters,
Sixth Finger,
Nirvana,
Gang Starr,
Kas Product,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yellowson,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.