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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 New Age Steppers to the punk 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
John Lydon,
Laurel Aitken,
Tim Buckley,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brand Nubian,
Yusef Lateef,
Basic Channel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maurizio,
Section 25,
The Fuzztones,
Stiv Bators,
Howard Jones,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
Essential Logic,
Rekid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Japan,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young,
CMW,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Smog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q and Not U,
The Fugs,
the Association,
Aloha Tigers,
Ronan,
Tubeway Army,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Finger,
the Soft Cell,
The Raincoats,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
The Cure,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.