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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 T. Rex to the grime 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
The Pop Group,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Boredoms,
The Litter,
Aaron Thompson,
Nico,
Arthur Verocai,
KRS-One,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Technova,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry's Kids,
Ossler,
Susan Cadogan,
Deadbeat,
The Neon Judgement,
The Associates,
The Smoke,
Roxy Music,
a-ha,
Crash Course in Science,
Godley & Creme,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day,
Flash Fearless,
Barbara Tucker,
Scott Walker,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Normal,
Intrusion,
cv313,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Adolescents,
Fatback Band,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Halsall,
Pagans,
the Bar-Kays,
Don Cherry,
Kas Product,
Q65,
The Wake,
The Fugs,
Simply Red,
The Gun Club,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Talk Talk,
Ice-T,
The Remains,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.