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 Spain and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Moss Icon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The Monochrome Set,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
T. Rex,
Technova,
Sonic Youth,
Essential Logic,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Young Marble Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agitation Free,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Organ,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dark Day,
Drexciya,
The Index,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
Excepter,
David Axelrod,
Brothers Johnson,
Erykah Badu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Stooges,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Michelle Simonal,
Thee Headcoats,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
Ornette Coleman,
the Germs,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
Scrapy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
LL Cool J,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kenny Larkin,
Maurizio,
The Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.