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 Rwanda and from London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alton Ellis to the punk 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
DJ Style,
Franke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Al Stewart,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roger Hodgson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tubeway Army,
The Red Krayola,
Warren Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Alison Limerick,
Jandek,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dark Day,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fluxion,
Electric Prunes,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
Joy Division,
Bill Near,
the Association,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Surgeon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Drive Like Jehu,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fortunes,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Shuggie Otis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Schoolly D,
The Cramps,
Outsiders,
The Gap Band,
Iggy Pop,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pretty Things,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.