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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Simply Red to the techno 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Bluetip,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flipper,
Crooked Eye,
Chris & Cosey,
Khruangbin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Lindisfarne,
China Crisis,
Moebius,
kango's stein massive,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Young Marble Giants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Porter Ricks,
The Victims,
Ten City,
Slave,
Black Bananas,
Nick Fraelich,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
X-102,
Eurythmics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scrapy,
The Real Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
Jeff Lynne,
The Kinks,
Dark Day,
Pagans,
Qualms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Johnny Osbourne,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Starr,
Wolf Eyes,
The United States of America,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ken Boothe,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sight & Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.