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 Moldova and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Beau Brummels to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
Scientists,
Mary Jane Girls,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
Tropical Tobacco,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yusef Lateef,
Shuggie Otis,
The Kinks,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cymande,
Simply Red,
AZ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Babytalk,
Ronan,
The Martian,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
T. Rex,
Whodini,
Sun Ra,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slick Rick,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Essential Logic,
Fela Kuti,
Fear,
Reuben Wilson,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sonic Youth,
The Residents,
Patti Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fluxion,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
Joyce Sims,
Kayak,
Franke,
Minutemen,
Lakeside,
Bronski Beat,
Blossom Toes,
Q65,
Supertramp,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.