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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
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 spring reverb 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 Godley & Creme 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Talk Talk,
Warren Ellis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
June Days,
The Move,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moleskins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun Ra,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
The Moody Blues,
Iggy Pop,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
Wings,
Second Layer,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
Joe Finger,
Altered Images,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
The Trojans,
Q65,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camberwell Now,
Suicide,
F. McDonald,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Au Pairs,
Moss Icon,
48th St. Collective,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.