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 Sri Lanka and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the jazz 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pantaleimon,
Fad Gadget,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
Blake Baxter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kerri Chandler,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Youth Brigade,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Popol Vuh,
Altered Images,
Minnie Riperton,
The Star Department,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Darondo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Outsiders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suicide,
Johnny Clarke,
Deakin,
Lakeside,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fall,
Jandek,
Quando Quango,
Quadrant,
The Skatalites,
Dawn Penn,
Chris Corsano,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
Tommy Roe,
Cluster,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
The Count Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Sex Pistols,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
LL Cool J,
The United States of America,
Los Fastidios,
Amazonics,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
Tears for Fears,
Donny Hathaway,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.