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 Gambia and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 New Order to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Infiniti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Motorama,
The Names,
Unwound,
The Motions,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
Banda Bassotti,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultra Naté,
Deakin,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Eve St. Jones,
Quando Quango,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül,
Josef K,
The Evens,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
E-Dancer,
Gang Gang Dance,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Interpol,
Grey Daturas,
Lindisfarne,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gap Band,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
EPMD,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
Sight & Sound,
Technova,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Alison Limerick,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.