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 India and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
JFA,
Kaleidoscope,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Terry,
The Standells,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers,
A Certain Ratio,
Dawn Penn,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
Eddi Front,
Nirvana,
Hardrive,
Marine Girls,
Quadrant,
Index,
Shuggie Otis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deakin,
Schoolly D,
Gang Green,
Ronan,
Girls At Our Best!,
F. McDonald,
The Last Poets,
Archie Shepp,
Althea and Donna,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thee Headcoats,
Fat Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joe Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moby Grape,
Sound Behaviour,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
Scion,
Michelle Simonal,
The Vogues,
The Young Rascals,
Lindisfarne,
James White and The Blacks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
the Fania All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
Barry Ungar,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
Ultra Naté,
Liliput,
Bronski Beat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.