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 Australia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Don Cherry to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a 808 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 clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Alison Limerick,
Scan 7,
Quadrant,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Tremeloes,
Donny Hathaway,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Sister Nancy,
Franke,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
Albert Ayler,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
Black Moon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warsaw,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Joe Finger,
Laurel Aitken,
Interpol,
Essential Logic,
Outsiders,
The Move,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
Delta 5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ossler,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
The Slits,
Massinfluence,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
Scion,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
The Blackbyrds,
Yellowson,
The Music Machine,
Trumans Water,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.