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 Czech Republic and from London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nils Olav to the techno 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doors,
The Index,
Deakin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Jacques Brel,
Pussy Galore,
Jandek,
Ronnie Foster,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
Clear Light,
David Axelrod,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Piero Umiliani,
Section 25,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
Unwound,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Raincoats,
Silicon Teens,
The Cure,
Marvin Gaye,
Henry Cow,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
Niagra,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
D'Angelo,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
Harry Pussy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alton Ellis,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.