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 Korea South and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fela Kuti to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
ABC,
Joyce Sims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
Pole,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Jacob Miller,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Sneak,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry's Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Funkadelic,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Womack,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Barbara Tucker,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monks,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Quantec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sly & The Family Stone,
The United States of America,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Wyatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jimmy McGriff,
ABBA,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slits,
Mantronix,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.