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 Comoros and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rekid,
Althea and Donna,
Soulsonic Force,
Lindisfarne,
Babytalk,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
the Sonics,
Section 25,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Maleditus Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Anthony Braxton,
Connie Case,
Morten Harket,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
Carl Craig,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scratch Acid,
Reagan Youth,
Little Man,
Siglo XX,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Holt,
B.T. Express,
Mandrill,
Metal Thangz,
Wire,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
Jandek,
The Sonics,
Josef K,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Smooth,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Bananas,
Fatback Band,
U.S. Maple,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Deakin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unrelated Segments,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.