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 Bahamas and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Maleditus Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
Altered Images,
A Certain Ratio,
Excepter,
Marine Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flipper,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David McCallum,
Peter and Kerry,
Mo-Dettes,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Kinks,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Susan Cadogan,
Scratch Acid,
Barbara Tucker,
KRS-One,
JFA,
Quando Quango,
Connie Case,
ABC,
Sparks,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monochrome Set,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
Delon & Dalcan,
Prince Buster,
The Electric Prunes,
Brand Nubian,
MC5,
The Raincoats,
The Grass Roots,
Clear Light,
Funky Four + One,
Althea and Donna,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.