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 South Sudan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Kaleidoscope to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Janne Schatter,
The Blackbyrds,
Pagans,
Sex Pistols,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry's Kids,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
Hot Snakes,
The New Christs,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Godley & Creme,
Aaron Thompson,
the Germs,
Negative Approach,
Wally Richardson,
Brand Nubian,
Ponytail,
The Names,
Technova,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Black Dice,
Excepter,
Angry Samoans,
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gong,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Quantec,
Inner City,
Gang Starr,
Dave Gahan,
Monolake,
The Neon Judgement,
Al Stewart,
Lyres,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
The Smoke,
Bizarre Inc.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Kas Product,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
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.