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 Kenya and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gang Starr to the funk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boz Scaggs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Procol Harum,
Lyres,
The Index,
Babytalk,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Ohio Players,
Qualms,
The Count Five,
Freddie Wadling,
Donald Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Magma,
Soul Sonic Force,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Lower 48,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Chris & Cosey,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy,
The Tremeloes,
Can,
The Fall,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scrapy,
Smog,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
Eric Dolphy,
Neu!,
Hoover,
Ronnie Foster,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things,
The Victims,
The Blackbyrds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Silicon Teens,
X-101,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
The American Breed,
Andrew Hill,
Easy Going,
Black Moon,
John Holt,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Panda Bear,
Aloha Tigers,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.