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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Easy Going,
Rod Modell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pere Ubu,
The Count Five,
Scan 7,
Basic Channel,
Maleditus Sound,
Warsaw,
The Mummies,
Altered Images,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
Delta 5,
The Remains,
The Music Machine,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
Toni Rubio,
Wire,
Swans,
Lalann,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
The Seeds,
The Young Rascals,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wasted Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cheater Slicks,
Icehouse,
Faraquet,
Khruangbin,
Mantronix,
Lou Christie,
Saccharine Trust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mandrill,
Jeff Lynne,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Anthony Braxton,
Eden Ahbez,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deakin,
a-ha,
Chris & Cosey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Andrew Hill,
Slick Rick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pop Group,
Darondo,
John Holt,
Newcleus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.