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 Ukraine and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aswad to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Wells,
Skaos,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blancmange,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Khruangbin,
John Cale,
Ornette Coleman,
Henry Cow,
Junior Murvin,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Cymande,
The Move,
Joe Finger,
UT,
L. Decosne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Lynne,
Amazonics,
Reagan Youth,
The Busters,
Sandy B,
Roxy Music,
Public Image Ltd.,
Make Up,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Green,
Terry Callier,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Nick Fraelich,
Organ,
Shoche,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Youth Brigade,
Black Moon,
Scientists,
Fad Gadget,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Bowie,
Banda Bassotti,
Crime,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
Gong,
Bluetip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Certain Ratio,
Colin Newman,
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.