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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sugar Minott,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David McCallum,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacob Miller,
Mark Hollis,
Niagra,
Danielle Patucci,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
Moby Grape,
Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Gang Dance,
Negative Approach,
Man Parrish,
Deakin,
The Index,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Associates,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
Jandek,
David Bowie,
Barry Ungar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Matthew Halsall,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
Mantronix,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
The American Breed,
Public Image Ltd.,
New Order,
The Doors,
Metal Thangz,
Public Enemy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
10cc,
Sandy B,
Kas Product,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.