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 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Bluetip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David McCallum,
The Knickerbockers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Spoonie Gee,
Aural Exciters,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Busters,
The Names,
Malaria!,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
Anakelly,
Lakeside,
Warren Ellis,
Television,
The Cure,
Wings,
Scratch Acid,
Rites of Spring,
Mantronix,
Arcadia,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Subhumans,
Thompson Twins,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Todd Terry,
Siglo XX,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Invisible,
Wasted Youth,
Monks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mojo Men,
Urselle,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Joy Division,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Little Man,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.