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 Cameroon and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
John Foxx,
Jeff Mills,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Seeds,
Drexciya,
JFA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Main Source,
T. Rex,
Amon Düül,
The Dead C,
Silicon Teens,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
The Blackbyrds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Searchers,
Tres Demented,
Sam Rivers,
Motorama,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fuzztones,
Technova,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
Bootsy Collins,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Roxy Music,
The Gun Club,
Subhumans,
Parry Music,
Cameo,
The Evens,
Monks,
Camouflage,
Sound Behaviour,
Nik Kershaw,
Marine Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station,
The United States of America,
Arab on Radar,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.