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 Korea North and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fire Engines to the dance 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nico,
The Fuzztones,
Prince Buster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sound,
Agent Orange,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Misunderstood,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
Agitation Free,
Erykah Badu,
Eric Copeland,
KRS-One,
Heaven 17,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sällskapet,
The Evens,
Theoretical Girls,
Von Mondo,
Connie Case,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Christie,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
D'Angelo,
Suicide,
Barry Ungar,
Aaron Thompson,
Danielle Patucci,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sparks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Piero Umiliani,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
Fat Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Shoche,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
MC5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Archie Shepp,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sonics,
Black Flag,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.