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 Belize 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barry Ungar to the rock 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
Ponytail,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
Marmalade,
Audionom,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Sparks,
New Order,
David McCallum,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Christie,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Matthew Halsall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Davy DMX,
Anthony Braxton,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Whodini,
The Music Machine,
In Retrospect,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fad Gadget,
Buzzcocks,
Harry Pussy,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
The Martian,
Massinfluence,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dark Day,
Patti Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Fraelich,
Gerry Rafferty,
Porter Ricks,
Youth Brigade,
Scan 7,
Roger Hodgson,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Mojo Men,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.