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 Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Desert Stars,
Neil Young,
Eddi Front,
Qualms,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bobby Byrd,
The Blues Magoos,
The Evens,
Tom Boy,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Barracudas,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
Godley & Creme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
the Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
a-ha,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul II Soul,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sister Nancy,
Pylon,
Excepter,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Harry Pussy,
The Red Krayola,
The Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Massinfluence,
Joyce Sims,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
Suicide,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gladiators,
Half Japanese,
The Trojans,
X-102,
Gang Starr,
Anthony Braxton,
Boredoms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Don Cherry,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.