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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Bootsy Collins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
10cc,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
Flipper,
Ossler,
The Slackers,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Easy Going,
Hoover,
Warsaw,
The Techniques,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sparks,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
Sight & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Y Pants,
Adolescents,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Star Department,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mighty Diamonds,
48th St. Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Eddi Front,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Freddie Wadling,
Sällskapet,
Gabor Szabo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Shoche,
U.S. Maple,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxette,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fuzztones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.