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 Bahamas and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 David Bowie 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 Zapp to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harmonia,
Von Mondo,
The Buckinghams,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Sheep,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun City Girls,
Negative Approach,
Anthony Braxton,
The Invisible,
Marine Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monks,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Main Source,
Cameo,
the Slits,
The Techniques,
Grauzone,
The Slackers,
The Smoke,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric Dolphy,
The Black Dice,
The Gladiators,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
Arthur Verocai,
E-Dancer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr,
Max Romeo,
Average White Band,
Moebius,
Suicide,
Flamin' Groovies,
Das Ding,
Royal Trux,
The Count Five,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sex Pistols,
Archie Shepp,
Kas Product,
The Human League,
The Saints,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
These Immortal Souls,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Pantaleimon,
Todd Rundgren,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.