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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Janne Schatter,
Country Teasers,
Lindisfarne,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Black Moon,
Graham Central Station,
Popol Vuh,
Crash Course in Science,
Piero Umiliani,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Leonard Cohen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glenn Branca,
The Selecter,
The Gories,
Wally Richardson,
Symarip,
Warren Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arcadia,
Alphaville,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bill Near,
Make Up,
Idris Muhammad,
The Real Kids,
Don Cherry,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
The New Christs,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Scion,
June of 44,
The Dave Clark Five,
This Heat,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Tommy Roe,
KRS-One,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Au Pairs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
cv313,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.