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 Swaziland and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Alice Coltrane to the dance 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Traffic Nightmare,
Siglo XX,
Electric Prunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Ludus,
Mission of Burma,
The Cowsills,
The Golliwogs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
the Slits,
In Retrospect,
The J.B.'s,
Outsiders,
Stetsasonic,
The Index,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Subhumans,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
Iggy Pop,
Ituana,
PIL,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
The Invisible,
Faraquet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mars,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Kurtis Blow,
Alphaville,
Soft Machine,
The Count Five,
Yazoo,
Shuggie Otis,
The Grass Roots,
Michelle Simonal,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Wyatt,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones,
The Tremeloes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Style,
Neu!,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.