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 Georgia and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Hill to the disco 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Skaos,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Vogues,
Hasil Adkins,
Mad Mike,
Minutemen,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
Visage,
Derrick May,
Alison Limerick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eddi Front,
Scientists,
June Days,
Moss Icon,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Interpol,
Skriet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Moon,
Faust,
La Düsseldorf,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yazoo,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
Kerrie Biddell,
Symarip,
E-Dancer,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Fat Boys,
Lou Christie,
Subhumans,
Crash Course in Science,
Guru Guru,
The Sonics,
Intrusion,
Harmonia,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
T. Rex,
Byron Stingily,
Cheater Slicks,
FM Einheit,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.