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 Portugal and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron 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 Eric B and Rakim to the funk 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cramps,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
the Normal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Neon Judgement,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tommy Roe,
The Golliwogs,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
The Searchers,
Gerry Rafferty,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television Personalities,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
X-101,
Susan Cadogan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marmalade,
New Order,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
Fear,
B.T. Express,
Marine Girls,
Infiniti,
DJ Sneak,
Massinfluence,
Livin' Joy,
Public Enemy,
Toni Rubio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Victims,
Jacob Miller,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Goldenarms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
Youth Brigade,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.