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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Associates to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Velvet Underground,
Pole,
OOIOO,
Can,
the Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bronski Beat,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
Lyres,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Y Pants,
The Remains,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Technova,
The Tremeloes,
Piero Umiliani,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
Freddie Wadling,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Q and Not U,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
a-ha,
Barclay James Harvest,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Idris Muhammad,
These Immortal Souls,
Suburban Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown,
Aswad,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Near,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Boredoms,
Neu!,
Joy Division,
Ralphi Rosario,
Accadde A,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fluxion,
Second Layer,
Ice-T,
JFA,
Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.