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 Burkina and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Sight & Sound to the grime 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Rekid,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
Popol Vuh,
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
The Monks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronnie Foster,
Graham Central Station,
Intrusion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sound Behaviour,
10cc,
Sam Rivers,
Piero Umiliani,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
This Heat,
Kerri Chandler,
The Real Kids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Agitation Free,
the Slits,
Robert Hood,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soft Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultravox,
Gong,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiohead,
La Düsseldorf,
Mad Mike,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thee Headcoats,
Junior Murvin,
Terry Callier,
Delta 5,
Al Stewart,
The Beau Brummels,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.