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 China and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Quando Quango to the punk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Yellowson,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Swell Maps,
Nils Olav,
Toni Rubio,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
Mark Hollis,
Can,
Avey Tare,
Franke,
Talk Talk,
Aloha Tigers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
FM Einheit,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Public Enemy,
Erykah Badu,
PIL,
Eddi Front,
Soft Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Doors,
Camberwell Now,
Brand Nubian,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
New York Dolls,
June Days,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slick Rick,
Iggy Pop,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Moon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fat Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tommy Roe,
Desert Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Byron Stingily,
John Foxx,
Suicide,
Alice Coltrane,
Kaleidoscope,
Ponytail,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
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.