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 Lesotho and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Television to the funk 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
UT,
The Litter,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Boz Scaggs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Isaac Hayes,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Wells,
Shoche,
Porter Ricks,
Ituana,
Eddi Front,
Buzzcocks,
Rites of Spring,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Erasure,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skriet,
Robert Wyatt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
The Misunderstood,
Camberwell Now,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hasil Adkins,
Alton Ellis,
Organ,
David McCallum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Excepter,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glenn Branca,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Cell,
Chrome,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Bad Manners,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
Talk Talk,
The Happenings,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
June of 44,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Young Marble Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.