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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 ABBA to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Modern Lovers,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABBA,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Drexciya,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
The Evens,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
D'Angelo,
Rosa Yemen,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Holt,
Junior Murvin,
Simply Red,
Fear,
Skarface,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Henry Cow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
The Pop Group,
Zero Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Massinfluence,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
Con Funk Shun,
Ludus,
The Trojans,
Kayak,
the Swans,
The Cowsills,
Lucky Dragons,
Arab on Radar,
Y Pants,
Marine Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
The Standells,
the Association,
Rites of Spring,
John Coltrane,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.