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 Marshall Islands and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sam Rivers to the grime 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Dawn Penn,
Ultra Naté,
Max Romeo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
Pussy Galore,
Aural Exciters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moody Blues,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Echospace,
Motorama,
the Soft Cell,
Kayak,
Los Fastidios,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
The Walker Brothers,
Joy Division,
Funkadelic,
B.T. Express,
Royal Trux,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
Ornette Coleman,
Reuben Wilson,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
Skarface,
Duran Duran,
48th St. Collective,
Sparks,
Underground Resistance,
Deepchord,
Sister Nancy,
Fatback Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Barracudas,
a-ha,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.