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 Sudan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 T.S.O.L. to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
The Mummies,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
The Evens,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
Sound Behaviour,
Bush Tetras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
R.M.O.,
Can,
Slave,
Goldenarms,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Cale,
Jacob Miller,
The Leaves,
kango's stein massive,
Dawn Penn,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott Heron,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
The Litter,
The Toasters,
Nas,
MC5,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hardrive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hashim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gong,
the Association,
Subhumans,
the Sonics,
The Star Department,
Thee Headcoats,
Byron Stingily,
Zero Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Second Layer,
Blancmange,
Buzzcocks,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.