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 El Salvador 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Swell Maps to the funk 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
the Human League,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Crime,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Teasers,
The Happenings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
Faust,
The Doors,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
Suicide,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Ludus,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
The Evens,
Lyres,
The Dead C,
David McCallum,
Urselle,
Adolescents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Camberwell Now,
The American Breed,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June Days,
The Barracudas,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warsaw,
F. McDonald,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
Pantytec,
Black Flag,
Aural Exciters,
Chris & Cosey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alison Limerick,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.