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 Honduras and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
Television Personalities,
Newcleus,
Delta 5,
Marvin Gaye,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
James White and The Blacks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arab on Radar,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
10cc,
Monolake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
June Days,
Whodini,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
Unrelated Segments,
Inner City,
Intrusion,
The Angels of Light,
Bush Tetras,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Halsall,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Sherman,
Bauhaus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
The Doors,
Mo-Dettes,
A Certain Ratio,
Jandek,
The Smoke,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
Rites of Spring,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.