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 Egypt and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Aaron Thompson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
Sandy B,
The Selecter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Alton Ellis,
The Pop Group,
The Gories,
Darondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gap Band,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slits,
Black Pus,
Eric Dolphy,
U.S. Maple,
Alice Coltrane,
Camberwell Now,
Jandek,
Scientists,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
Rufus Thomas,
Fugazi,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Hasil Adkins,
Qualms,
The Vogues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Barrington Levy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Blancmange,
kango's stein massive,
Silicon Teens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Main Source,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.