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 Tuvalu and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 B.T. Express to the rap 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacques Brel,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
David Axelrod,
F. McDonald,
Albert Ayler,
The Skatalites,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
In Retrospect,
Chris & Cosey,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
T. Rex,
One Last Wish,
Cameo,
Lucky Dragons,
Lindisfarne,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gun Club,
The Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Certain Ratio,
Jandek,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultra Naté,
Bronski Beat,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl,
X-101,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
The Pop Group,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
The Misunderstood,
John Cale,
ABBA,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Can,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.