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 Dominica and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Marmalade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
the Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Roxette,
The Vogues,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ludus,
Animal Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
Pantytec,
Gang of Four,
Country Teasers,
Metal Thangz,
Fear,
Man Parrish,
Mandrill,
Guru Guru,
John Coltrane,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Index,
Jerry's Kids,
The Seeds,
Y Pants,
Public Enemy,
Cybotron,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
New Order,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
The Skatalites,
Soulsonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barry Ungar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.