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 Morocco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cecil Taylor to the rap 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
Anthony Braxton,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Victims,
Ultra Naté,
Circle Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
B.T. Express,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
Tres Demented,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Clear Light,
Reuben Wilson,
Nik Kershaw,
The Real Kids,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Marc Almond,
Andrew Hill,
The Searchers,
Lyres,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soulsonic Force,
Fluxion,
The Gladiators,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
Sarah Menescal,
Organ,
The Busters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Silicon Teens,
Infiniti,
Kas Product,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerrie Biddell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
MC5,
The Trojans,
Oblivians,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.