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 Equatorial Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Faust to the punk 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
DJ Style,
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
Sparks,
New Order,
Todd Terry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Wake,
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
ABC,
Lakeside,
Joe Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Monks,
Sun City Girls,
Eddi Front,
F. McDonald,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smiths,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dead C,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dave Gahan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
Fluxion,
Swans,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Don Cherry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
Y Pants,
The Fortunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erykah Badu,
Supertramp,
Maurizio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pussy Galore,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.