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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 F. McDonald to the grunge 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Freddie Wadling,
Gabor Szabo,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
The Divine Comedy,
Buzzcocks,
Unwound,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
Severed Heads,
Groovy Waters,
The Fall,
The Walker Brothers,
the Normal,
La Düsseldorf,
Blake Baxter,
This Heat,
Soul II Soul,
Deakin,
Sarah Menescal,
Prince Buster,
Blossom Toes,
Glenn Branca,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Bananas,
Ten City,
Youth Brigade,
Ronnie Foster,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jimmy McGriff,
Michelle Simonal,
The Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hoover,
Agitation Free,
Zapp,
Angry Samoans,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Tom Boy,
The Human League,
Tres Demented,
Outsiders,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
Colin Newman,
Gang Green,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Count Five,
Shuggie Otis,
Crime,
Jeff Lynne,
Make Up,
The Trojans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.