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 Zimbabwe and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soft Cell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Darondo,
Swell Maps,
Pussy Galore,
The Skatalites,
Neil Young,
Lindisfarne,
Funky Four + One,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Görl,
Skarface,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Wally Richardson,
Echospace,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deepchord,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Technova,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Sneak,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Schoolly D,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
T. Rex,
The Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Von Mondo,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quadrant,
Albert Ayler,
Newcleus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Das Ding,
Chris & Cosey,
Groovy Waters,
Joensuu 1685,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
Ken Boothe,
Maurizio,
The Angels of Light,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Stooges,
Sällskapet,
The Velvet Underground,
Brand Nubian,
Matthew Bourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.