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 Mauritania and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
The Victims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Youth Brigade,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fugazi,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
Duran Duran,
The Moody Blues,
Magazine,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Underground Resistance,
Q and Not U,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shuggie Otis,
Albert Ayler,
The Gladiators,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
Alton Ellis,
Brass Construction,
Mad Mike,
Flash Fearless,
Unwound,
The Standells,
Mars,
Sparks,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
Can,
LL Cool J,
Cluster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
UT,
Chrome,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.