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 Benin and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Rakim to the techno 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Archie Shepp,
Pole,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Rundgren,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Warren Ellis,
The Motions,
Scott Walker,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shoche,
Erasure,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
The Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
Colin Newman,
Brass Construction,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
Slick Rick,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Interpol,
Country Teasers,
Ultravox,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.