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 Ecuador and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Star Department,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Guru Guru,
Barrington Levy,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ituana,
LL Cool J,
Jacob Miller,
The Dead C,
Model 500,
Idris Muhammad,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tropical Tobacco,
Au Pairs,
The Real Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Iggy Pop,
The Misunderstood,
Anakelly,
Panda Bear,
Bronski Beat,
Hot Snakes,
The Busters,
The Blackbyrds,
Morten Harket,
Drexciya,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Depeche Mode,
Basic Channel,
Das Ding,
Moebius,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hashim,
Camberwell Now,
Animal Collective,
Schoolly D,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
MDC,
The Fuzztones,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Faraquet,
Marvin Gaye,
Bluetip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grauzone,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.