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 Ukraine and from London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Alton Ellis to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Oblivians,
The Fall,
Darondo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Qualms,
The Standells,
Radio Birdman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Wake,
the Normal,
The Grass Roots,
Joey Negro,
Pagans,
Hashim,
Tim Buckley,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Silicon Teens,
Dark Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
K-Klass,
Moebius,
Von Mondo,
Derrick May,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Surgeon,
U.S. Maple,
Audionom,
Terry Callier,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxette,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
Little Man,
The Mummies,
The Motions,
Barbara Tucker,
Tres Demented,
Funkadelic,
The Modern Lovers,
New Order,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sällskapet,
Joe Finger,
Pole,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.