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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Angry Samoans to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
A Certain Ratio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang On A Can,
The Names,
Whodini,
Minor Threat,
The Star Department,
Fear,
Alton Ellis,
Jacques Brel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Ponytail,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sällskapet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lower 48,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amon Düül,
Vladislav Delay,
The Vogues,
The Index,
Donny Hathaway,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Camberwell Now,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Simply Red,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Schoolly D,
Ralphi Rosario,
cv313,
JFA,
Marmalade,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
K-Klass,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Gabor Szabo,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Jeff Lynne,
The Searchers,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.