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 Japan and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 Sound Behaviour to the grime 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cameo,
Nils Olav,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dennis Brown,
Porter Ricks,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
Blossom Toes,
David McCallum,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Tomorrow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thee Headcoats,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pharoah Sanders,
Althea and Donna,
The Vogues,
Throbbing Gristle,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronan,
Ronnie Foster,
Icehouse,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
The Last Poets,
Isaac Hayes,
The Associates,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
Sarah Menescal,
Leonard Cohen,
Alphaville,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Happenings,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slackers,
Shuggie Otis,
Monolake,
Brick,
Todd Terry,
Subhumans,
Dual Sessions,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sound,
June of 44,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.