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 Vietnam and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Age Steppers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
Funky Four + One,
Camberwell Now,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
DJ Style,
E-Dancer,
The Toasters,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Almond,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
The Birthday Party,
The Fugs,
The Last Poets,
Wally Richardson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
Carl Craig,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Womack,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Bang On A Can,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Icehouse,
Spoonie Gee,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deakin,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
The Invisible,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dead C,
Scratch Acid,
cv313,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
Delta 5,
The Saints,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.