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 Bolivia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Rites of Spring to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
Niagra,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thompson Twins,
Kas Product,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Barracudas,
Public Enemy,
Siglo XX,
Cecil Taylor,
Jawbox,
Cameo,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
David McCallum,
The Index,
Magma,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Joensuu 1685,
U.S. Maple,
Darondo,
Judy Mowatt,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Jacques Brel,
Saccharine Trust,
Hardrive,
Smog,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Babytalk,
Iggy Pop,
Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minnie Riperton,
Urselle,
H. Thieme,
Al Stewart,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerri Chandler,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare,
Gabor Szabo,
Mars,
Blancmange,
The Litter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.