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 Eritrea and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes 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 H. Thieme to the grunge 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang On A Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Minnie Riperton,
Mission of Burma,
Faust,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Desert Stars,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scott Walker,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxy Music,
Cameo,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
The Five Americans,
Unrelated Segments,
Basic Channel,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Swans,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
The Kinks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Livin' Joy,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
The New Christs,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Quantec,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
Boz Scaggs,
Darondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.