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 Slovenia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Michael McDonald 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 Iggy Pop to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
The Victims,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Knickerbockers,
The Tremeloes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Inner City,
New Order,
Aaron Thompson,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Wake,
Don Cherry,
Ultra Naté,
Andrew Hill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dawn Penn,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Selecter,
Drexciya,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cal Tjader,
Letta Mbulu,
Minny Pops,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
The Standells,
Avey Tare,
Todd Terry,
Peter & Gordon,
Lucky Dragons,
Masters at Work,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Slits,
Porter Ricks,
John Lydon,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alton Ellis,
Altered Images,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Prince Buster,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.