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 Netherlands and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 kango's stein massive to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
LL Cool J,
Bill Near,
Index,
Q and Not U,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
The Cramps,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sex Pistols,
The Cure,
Matthew Bourne,
X-Ray Spex,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
Rosa Yemen,
Monolake,
Derrick Morgan,
The Searchers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blancmange,
Carl Craig,
D'Angelo,
Grauzone,
Qualms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Dennis Brown,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lalo Schifrin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
Japan,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fire Engines,
Aswad,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
The Vogues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Arab on Radar,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
Black Flag,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Joyce Sims,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.