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 Gabon and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pulsallama to the funk 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
UT,
Alice Coltrane,
Aswad,
Rapeman,
Half Japanese,
Tom Boy,
The Trojans,
Robert Hood,
Camouflage,
Qualms,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
10cc,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smoke,
Nik Kershaw,
Laurel Aitken,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
JFA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kas Product,
Unwound,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Agent Orange,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
K-Klass,
Accadde A,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Youth Brigade,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Music Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vladislav Delay,
New Age Steppers,
Arcadia,
Circle Jerks,
Josef K,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.