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 Nauru and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Wyatt,
Bluetip,
Los Fastidios,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gap Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Dark Day,
Andrew Hill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Danielle Patucci,
Brass Construction,
Swell Maps,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Music Machine,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Brick,
Dave Gahan,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Kaleidoscope,
The Stooges,
Charles Mingus,
Letta Mbulu,
Spandau Ballet,
Nico,
Drexciya,
The Black Dice,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians,
Fat Boys,
The Mojo Men,
New Age Steppers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grauzone,
Bush Tetras,
Severed Heads,
The Walker Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
David Bowie,
Von Mondo,
The Pretty Things,
The Neon Judgement,
The Angels of Light,
The Gladiators,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Marc Almond,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.