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 Senegal and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the crunk 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Iggy Pop,
Henry Cow,
The Busters,
Jacques Brel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lakeside,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
Desert Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grauzone,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
Vainqueur,
Sister Nancy,
Yazoo,
Essential Logic,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun City Girls,
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Altered Images,
Whodini,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bauhaus,
Alton Ellis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mo-Dettes,
Marine Girls,
Zapp,
Yaz,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.