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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kenny Larkin to the funk 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
R.M.O.,
Susan Cadogan,
Desert Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terry Callier,
Rosa Yemen,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dual Sessions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Organ,
Scrapy,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Nas,
La Düsseldorf,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Eurythmics,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Jimmy McGriff,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Parry Music,
Iggy Pop,
Urselle,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Evens,
Supertramp,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lightning Bolt,
Sandy B,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
Second Layer,
These Immortal Souls,
Spandau Ballet,
Flipper,
Saccharine Trust,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Trojans,
Interpol,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.