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 Croatia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wings,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Masters at Work,
Ronnie Foster,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra,
Animal Collective,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Altered Images,
The Moleskins,
Liliput,
Joey Negro,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Echospace,
The Martian,
Derrick Morgan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dirtbombs,
the Swans,
The Raincoats,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
the Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Brass Construction,
Mandrill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Essential Logic,
Skarface,
The Names,
Sarah Menescal,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
Chrome,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.