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 Guyana and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Techniques,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
The Moody Blues,
Animal Collective,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Country Teasers,
PIL,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
U.S. Maple,
Camberwell Now,
Outsiders,
The Raincoats,
Bill Wells,
Mandrill,
Bill Near,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Easy Going,
Moby Grape,
Main Source,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
Pole,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Audionom,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
The Alarm Clocks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sandy B,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
Bronski Beat,
Yaz,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Crime,
Rod Modell,
The Walker Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Nas,
Kurtis Blow,
Los Fastidios,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cluster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiohead,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül,
Junior Murvin,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.