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 Korea South and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pulsallama to the dance 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DJ Sneak,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Duran Duran,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Rakim,
Public Enemy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Minor Threat,
Dark Day,
Interpol,
Con Funk Shun,
Essential Logic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Banda Bassotti,
Nik Kershaw,
John Cale,
Aswad,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rekid,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
Lebanon Hanover,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
Intrusion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gichy Dan,
Kurtis Blow,
Maleditus Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Whodini,
The Walker Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Neil Young,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Litter,
Underground Resistance,
The Count Five,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Supertramp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.