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 South Africa and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rock 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Ronnie Foster,
Byron Stingily,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Stiv Bators,
Clear Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
Quadrant,
Icehouse,
Stetsasonic,
10cc,
The Smoke,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funky Four + One,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobbi Humphrey,
OOIOO,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
The Trojans,
Matthew Halsall,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Carl Craig,
L. Decosne,
Quando Quango,
The Tremeloes,
Q and Not U,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy,
Grey Daturas,
the Soft Cell,
Eve St. Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mark Hollis,
Rapeman,
Severed Heads,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Matthew Bourne,
Hardrive,
Black Sheep,
Steve Hackett,
The Names,
Fear,
R.M.O.,
The Beau Brummels,
New Age Steppers,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Mills,
Half Japanese,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.