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 Belgium 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 New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
Lungfish,
Steve Hackett,
June Days,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Buzzcocks,
Soft Machine,
ABC,
The Pop Group,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Angels of Light,
Byron Stingily,
Technova,
Pylon,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Althea and Donna,
Accadde A,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
The Mojo Men,
Sam Rivers,
The Cure,
Gerry Rafferty,
Quando Quango,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
The Martian,
Joe Finger,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pole,
Shuggie Otis,
Sugar Minott,
The Names,
The Wake,
Fluxion,
Roger Hodgson,
Q and Not U,
DJ Sneak,
Absolute Body Control,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yusef Lateef,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Modern Lovers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Section 25,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.