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 Qatar and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Zapp to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minnie Riperton,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yellowson,
Supertramp,
DJ Style,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Iggy Pop,
Yaz,
Ituana,
Man Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Womack,
Trumans Water,
Danielle Patucci,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Second Layer,
Thee Headcoats,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Red Krayola,
The Fall,
John Lydon,
Half Japanese,
Quadrant,
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Names,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stiv Bators,
Model 500,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The American Breed,
Harry Pussy,
Smog,
David Axelrod,
Tommy Roe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
Wolf Eyes,
Pierre Henry,
Roxette,
the Slits,
Main Source,
Intrusion,
The Cowsills,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.