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 Tonga and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Radiohead to the crunk 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
MC5,
the Swans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Second Layer,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris & Cosey,
Supertramp,
Agitation Free,
Chrome,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sight & Sound,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Alison Limerick,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Human League,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
Eddi Front,
Cecil Taylor,
Model 500,
Fad Gadget,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Evens,
Pierre Henry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Steve Hackett,
Guru Guru,
Connie Case,
Duran Duran,
Robert Görl,
Nas,
Black Sheep,
Procol Harum,
Subhumans,
Gichy Dan,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Joe Smooth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fela Kuti,
The Real Kids,
Colin Newman,
K-Klass,
Scrapy,
Angry Samoans,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Stetsasonic,
Pantaleimon,
The Zeros,
Ohio Players,
China Crisis,
Todd Rundgren,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.