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 Maldives and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer 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 Aloha Tigers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
The Music Machine,
Slave,
Skarface,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
X-101,
Charles Mingus,
the Bar-Kays,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
Zero Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter & Gordon,
Ornette Coleman,
Desert Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Simply Red,
Underground Resistance,
One Last Wish,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Nico,
Faust,
Pylon,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pretty Things,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
Infiniti,
Q65,
Fear,
Fela Kuti,
Lucky Dragons,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
Icehouse,
Yellowson,
Piero Umiliani,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deakin,
Tom Boy,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
Negative Approach,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.