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 Rwanda and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 T.S.O.L. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Remains,
Hasil Adkins,
John Lydon,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
Rakim,
Sound Behaviour,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
Faust,
Thompson Twins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Accadde A,
The Fuzztones,
The Monks,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
Soulsonic Force,
Ken Boothe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gabor Szabo,
Ronan,
Crime,
MC5,
Fugazi,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
Tres Demented,
Jeff Mills,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Livin' Joy,
The Zeros,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
The Count Five,
Surgeon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amon Düül,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moleskins,
Cluster,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.