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 Portugal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 kango's stein massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yellowson,
JFA,
Matthew Bourne,
F. McDonald,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Davy DMX,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fortunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Mars,
Pylon,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lindisfarne,
Connie Case,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Blues Magoos,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rites of Spring,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Warren Ellis,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Angels of Light,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
Steve Hackett,
Silicon Teens,
Flipper,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shoche,
Grauzone,
The Gun Club,
Deakin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Supertramp,
Kayak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.