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 Peru and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Music Machine to the rap 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 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?
Jacques Brel,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
Masters at Work,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Stetsasonic,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
Quantec,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Pierre Henry,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Accadde A,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Bourne,
Ituana,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Basic Channel,
Kayak,
Excepter,
Zapp,
Brass Construction,
Khruangbin,
Smog,
Warsaw,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Brick,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
The Saints,
DNA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Public Enemy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.