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 Mali and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Ronan,
Black Pus,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
Connie Case,
Joe Smooth,
The Motions,
The Human League,
Eden Ahbez,
Von Mondo,
Stiv Bators,
Althea and Donna,
The Gun Club,
Black Bananas,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Cymande,
Scan 7,
Second Layer,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Can,
Steve Hackett,
Infiniti,
The Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
Groovy Waters,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brand Nubian,
Hasil Adkins,
James White and The Blacks,
Sandy B,
Monks,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Visage,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T.S.O.L.,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
The Birthday Party,
The Angels of Light,
Spoonie Gee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.