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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Faraquet to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
The Star Department,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marmalade,
AZ,
The Litter,
Boz Scaggs,
Faraquet,
Liliput,
U.S. Maple,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories,
Iggy Pop,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Maurizio,
Surgeon,
Wire,
Gang Green,
Babytalk,
Ronan,
Ornette Coleman,
Niagra,
Yusef Lateef,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sällskapet,
The Angels of Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minor Threat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
Procol Harum,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Carl Craig,
Mantronix,
Laurel Aitken,
Derrick May,
Ultravox,
Main Source,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Darondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.