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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wings to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cal Tjader,
Inner City,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
The Victims,
Sixth Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
Wings,
Matthew Halsall,
Sällskapet,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Misunderstood,
Aloha Tigers,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funkadelic,
Dawn Penn,
Kool Moe Dee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mr. Review,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
Joe Smooth,
MC5,
Agitation Free,
Das Ding,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick May,
Black Sheep,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Von Mondo,
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
JFA,
June Days,
Porter Ricks,
Accadde A,
Crispian St. Peters,
Morten Harket,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Funky Four + One,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
the Normal,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
Sound Behaviour,
the Soft Cell,
Outsiders,
Tom Boy,
Kas Product,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.