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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Coltrane to the jazz 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Underground Resistance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Connie Case,
The Cure,
Mandrill,
Pussy Galore,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
Glenn Branca,
the Sonics,
Rotary Connection,
New Order,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wasted Youth,
The Vogues,
Trumans Water,
Sun City Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vainqueur,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Newcleus,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
Pagans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Neon Judgement,
Joensuu 1685,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Swans,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Blancmange,
Rakim,
Todd Terry,
Minutemen,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
Gabor Szabo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.