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 Serbia and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Make Up to the punk 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Fatback Band,
Joyce Sims,
Ituana,
Thee Headcoats,
CMW,
Niagra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harry Pussy,
Amazonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Count Five,
Schoolly D,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moody Blues,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Hill,
Minny Pops,
Isaac Hayes,
Darondo,
Rites of Spring,
Eric B and Rakim,
FM Einheit,
The Birthday Party,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
DJ Style,
Stetsasonic,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Minutemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Spandau Ballet,
Alison Limerick,
The Selecter,
Youth Brigade,
Alton Ellis,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
the Germs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.