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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
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 harpsichord 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 Alison Limerick to the disco 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Massinfluence,
Aaron Thompson,
Suicide,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yazoo,
The J.B.'s,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wolf Eyes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aswad,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
Country Joe & The Fish,
One Last Wish,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brick,
the Bar-Kays,
The Skatalites,
Mad Mike,
China Crisis,
Moebius,
Cameo,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Animal Collective,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Delta 5,
David Axelrod,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat,
Rotary Connection,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Juan Atkins,
Blancmange,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.