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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Basic Channel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Derrick Morgan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
OOIOO,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sound,
Swans,
The Angels of Light,
the Normal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grey Daturas,
Pere Ubu,
Intrusion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Motorama,
Sun City Girls,
The Vogues,
Niagra,
The Sonics,
L. Decosne,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
Skaos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
Soft Machine,
Quadrant,
The Smoke,
Los Fastidios,
Amon Düül,
Silicon Teens,
Pagans,
Main Source,
Flipper,
Model 500,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxy Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Inner City,
Glenn Branca,
Scientists,
Don Cherry,
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.