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 Cameroon and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Associates to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
Model 500,
Godley & Creme,
Urselle,
Cecil Taylor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Carl Craig,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacob Miller,
Nas,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Doors,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flash Fearless,
Tres Demented,
Arab on Radar,
Ten City,
David Axelrod,
Mandrill,
Wire,
Fugazi,
Scientists,
June of 44,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Don Cherry,
The Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
Khruangbin,
The Young Rascals,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
June Days,
The Monks,
Ken Boothe,
Stereo Dub,
Japan,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
Skarface,
cv313,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Darondo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yellowson,
Lalann,
Peter and Kerry,
Deadbeat,
Country Teasers,
Ohio Players,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.