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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 Joyce Sims 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Liliput,
Scientists,
Gichy Dan,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Gong,
Simply Red,
Inner City,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mark Hollis,
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
Roger Hodgson,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sound,
The Searchers,
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
Junior Murvin,
Barrington Levy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Massinfluence,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris & Cosey,
Kurtis Blow,
The Wake,
Leonard Cohen,
Fatback Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harmonia,
Joe Smooth,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike,
Tim Buckley,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
The Cowsills,
Buzzcocks,
Sugar Minott,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.