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 Maldives and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Barrington Levy to the rock 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Boz Scaggs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Velvet Underground,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sällskapet,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Prince Buster,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Starr,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Pus,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
K-Klass,
Zapp,
Little Man,
Eden Ahbez,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Görl,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Donny Hathaway,
Maurizio,
Fluxion,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neu!,
The Remains,
Monks,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Henry Cow,
kango's stein massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The United States of America,
The Zeros,
Marcia Griffiths,
10cc,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.