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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 June Days to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Pole,
Cameo,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Kas Product,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fortunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kerrie Biddell,
New Order,
Ultra Naté,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Excepter,
Joyce Sims,
Marvin Gaye,
Organ,
Moby Grape,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mark Hollis,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Danielle Patucci,
Boredoms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Graham Central Station,
Easy Going,
The Cramps,
Reagan Youth,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Michelle Simonal,
Surgeon,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
David Axelrod,
Inner City,
Marmalade,
Y Pants,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Iggy Pop,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
a-ha,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mars,
Fugazi,
Susan Cadogan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Funkadelic,
The New Christs,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rites of Spring,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.